Shade Run
by Jaynesdingleberries
Summary: Post BDM. Miranda wasn’t the only secret River learned from Parliament, she also learned where they got the Pax from…and one of its first test subjects. Chapter 23 submitted.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own the whole 'verse. Sure. eye roll

Post BDM. Miranda wasn't the only secret River learned from Parliament, she also learned _where _they got the Pax from…and one of its first test-subjects.

The capture was very old, at least ten years old; and it was a huge, it took up an entire wall of the sterile white room and it depicted a thing of simple beauty. It was of a girl; dark haired and dark eyed, at least eight years old and she was dancing . It was a dance that hadn't been invented yet. In the background startled eyes watched her, eyes of fellow dance students and two very red-faced dance teachers who were obviously debating on whether or not to let her continue her dance. A descision seemed to be made and one of the instructors, a dour-faced woman with short blonde hair and close set eyes walked forward to stop the child-

-the capture stopped abruptly, and the man watching it snarled. When the Doctors were in the room the man snarled. When the sets of cold-eyed men with blue-gloved hands were in the room the man snarled. Really, the man snarled when there was anybody nearby to see it, even if it was only a capture or a surveillance camera. People expected him to snarl, scowl, and bite at them. It didn't do to disappoint people. They got suspicious otherwise. The girl had taught him that. The dark haired girl with dark eyes that laughed and sang as she danced with innocent delight.

He doubted she had such innocence anymore. He knew what they had done to her. It was very near what they had done to him.

Another image exploded up on the wall, of a more mature girl, a young woman really; there was a sadness in her eyes that hadn't been there in the previous capture. Another capture of her stabbing a man in his neck with his own pen, her hands bloody and her eyes wide. Then another capture took its place, of her escape from the Academy where she had been relentlessly trained, where he had been made. It showed her brother, her brother with the still face and dark eyes that expressed far too much to an observant man.

He had never had eyes like that…. His own eyes were far too blank, and far too dead. He doubted that he could ever have eyes that showed that such love as Simon Tam's expressed for his little sister.

Then the wall displayed images of various numbers, trajectories, bank accounts, lists of ships and captains and crews and passenger logs. They flashed so fast that no human eye could have distinguish one from another. But he saw them and he understood.

The final ship that flashed on the screen was of a Firefly class, the name _Serenity_, and a complete rundown of crew, past records, home planets and moons, backgrounds, and every other fact that the Alliance could find about the crew.

Then followed images of violence. Captures of Reavers, torture, death, and inhumane brutality. The screams were deafening, the colors vivid; especially the red….

The two men with blue gloved-hands at the door could barely maintain their dispassionate facades as they observed the man chained to the wall and the images that flooded the large screen.

The man's low snarls made the hair on the back of their necks raise, and the hungry look in his color-less eyes made it difficult for them not to shudder.

Observing the man from the camera in the corner of the room the scientists and high officials spoke quietly together, commending the men in charge of this mission with their methods of training this savage beast.

This was the way they would finally eliminate the traitor River Tam, and all who tried to protect her. It was the way they would finally protect the few secrets that remained in their vastly slipping empire. But in their eyes also glinted fear…the fear of what would happen if another secret was revealed, the fear of this creature shackled in a room, the fear of what would happen if they failed.

But there were a few old men who stood in the room, and one younger woman whose eyes sparkled with anticipation of darker things. They were not a part of these frightened men, vulnerable in their wasting world and their padded fortunes. They understood the ways of this beast and how to ensure his obeisance. He was not like that foolish Operative, whom they had easily dispatched. The man had only belief; but the man chained in the room, he had a hunger.

The man hungered for River Tam just as much as the men watching him were. She had been the graceful one, the one who cowered and capitulated to harsh experiments, the one who had been praised as prodigy. The one who had escaped this place and left him behind with only pain and blood to keep alive.

He hungered so much for her blood.


	2. Chapter 2

Uhuh…all mine… my precious…oops- wrong show

River stood next to Wash's chair and let herself cry. It wasn't the sort f crying you would see other seventeen-year old girls do; there was not wetness on her cheeks. But he filled her mind with green light and laughter.

Her finger trailed over the dinosaur toys, now rarely touched and never played with. They missed him; he had been their Lord and their hearts and imagination.. He had held them and loved them and dreamed for them.

It would be a long time before hands would show them the same compassion. Months. Nine months to be exact.

It was not her place to tell Zoe about Wash's son, with his father's eyes and his mother's bronzed skin. There were some things best left unsaid, and it was not as if the warrior wouldn't know about his arrival beforehand. She would be very aware of his presence when he weighted her down to a waddle and pressed hard against her bladder in later months. She would be even more aware of him when he came out.

But he was not here yet and the toys were only aware of right now, of his absence. And River's gentle fingers, although well-meaning, were still stained with blood. Blood of people she had never seen, and of those she had killed unknowingly.

"Wait, little ones. This Land will be yours again," she whispered to them sadly and turned away, disheartened.

She opened her mind to Wash, sitting here in the repaired chair, his favorite back-warmer, and felt his lingering smile. There was just a glimmer of his old self in this spot…most of him had gone to Zoe, to his son. Every once in a while when River saw the woman walking around the cargo hold she would see a greeny-gold light around her body, mixed with her own magenta tones.

With a sigh River opened her mind to the rest of the crew, sleeping in _Serenity_'s belly. They were held tightly there, the ship so sore and afraid of loosing another to the dark of death; that was _Serenity's _fear.

There was Mal and Inara, finally allowing their colors to mingle. River thought that earth brown and regal gold mixed well; she liked the fragrance of their love. They had let it bloom instead of trying to weed it out with horrible poisonous smells and ugly colors. Now they slept entwined in his cabin, because the shuttle was still barren and, River believed, it would remain that way.

Next was Simon and Kaylee….still awake and frantic. River's mind sipped quickly of their joy and departed, not wanting to intrude on their intimacy.

Zoe was solid and dark, the gentle tickles of Wash's spirit guarding her with love and laughter, soothing away her nightmares and loneliness….preparing her heart and her soul for the new life within her.

And finally….Jayne. He wore the crimson of kings and noble men. But the cloth of this color was ragged and threadbare. Old nobility crudely woven and roughly cut. Who had sown it she did not know, and dared not to look further into that part of Jayne's heart where dark memories dwelled, because there was a suspicious look of dried blood on that red mantle and River had seen so much blood.

Blood frightened River something fierce. She remembered that blood. Her blood and another's…black eyes and flashing teeth.

She could feel _Serenity _shudder as her memories ran back to devil's eyes and pain. The ship tried to embrace her but River was drowning, falling endlessly into a pool of dead blood, dark and pungently foul. A bloodbath, and the blood was hers. Both his and hers.

River wept. This time tears trickled down as she ran from the bridge to her room, bypassing Jayne's bunk and his startled expression.

Hunger pains and a strange dream had woken him from a sound sleep.. He was unused to such dreams. Other dreams, older and more familiar had changed into images of a greeny gold Zoe and flashing black eyes that looked haunted and animalistic. But they were forgotten now, as he had been off to get something to eat….but there was River, running, a silent and wraith-like dancer, her flower dress fluttering behind her, tears on her cheeks.

Fear clutched hard in his chest.

A girl's tears frightened Jayne something fierce.


	3. Chapter 3

I bow to Joss for he is boss.

I put away all toys I play with

But can we keep Jayne out for a bit?

The next morning, after half a night's sleep, Simon felt unusually chipper and volunteered to cook breakfast. He was slightly taken aback when he was met with a chorus of "NO!"s.

He wondered if he should be offended until he caught a glimpse of Zoe's queasy face and lost his train of thought.

He knew he wasn't the greatest cook but he had never gotten such a reaction out of that woman. She actually looked nauseous, like she was about to throw up any second. No one else noticed her though, because they were all staring at him with horrified expressions.

She seemed to realize that he was noticing her reaction and instantly the usual Zoe-stoic-mask came over her face and she said dryly "As good as that sounds I think it's time to check on our pilot."

Mal, Inara, and Kayee didn't seem to see her leave, they were still watching him warily, but Jayne looked up at her as if something she had said had caught his attention. That caused a tickle in the back of Simon's mind, but he forgot it when Kaylee gently took the pan from his hand.

"I'll make some porridge. My Ma showed me when I was just a little 'un and I've been making it for years." She smiled her bright sunshine smile, the one that always left him dazed and breathless, and asked, "Would you like to learn how to make it?"

Mal and Inara relaxed when they saw the bedazzled Simon, his eyes slightly unfocused, nod to the mechanic and start collecting the ingredients that she named. They didn't nestle together like the younger pair of lovebirds would, but they sat close to one another and when Inara slipped her fingers through his he squeezed them gently.

"She has the situation under control." Inara said teasingly. He liked that, her openness with him now. Her ability to make the everyday seem cheerful and clever filled something in his chest, filled something he hadn't known was empty. She delighted him with her inner sense of humor. Not to mention her beauty.

"She could say jump and he would ask 'how high?" Mal murmured in response. He couldn't say that he really liked the doctor, at least not his stuffy attitude. But said stuffy attitude had been quickly and swiftly exterminated by Kaylee's never ending openness.

The new smitten Simon was much more amusing.

Zoe had gone to check on the moonbrain.

Jayne looked down to the table where he had carefully laid out all the bits of his newest gun. They were shiny. They did not need to be cleaned now.

He took the gun rag and started to clean the bits until they practically sparkled. But his thoughts were not with his work, but on a single tear glinting in the dark of the halls.

His appetite had fled him after seeing that, and now that he thought of it, he wasn't particularly thrilled about Kaylee's delicious porridge. The smell that usually had him salivating now made him grimace.

He hated it when girls cried. It usually didn't bother him like it used to, until last night.

Sure he had seen a great deal of tear-filled eyes, the 'verse weren't really nice after all, but something about the crazy going and crying in the dark had seemed really wrong. It just didn't set right was all.

It wasn't as if Simon had his mind on her as much as he had in the past. It was obvious that the boy's mind had drifted and fix-i-ated on the mechanic. Wasn't as if he was keeping a close eye on his _mei mei _like he used to. Really, none of them had.

Wasn't right. Someone should keep an eye on her.

Mal and Inara looked at him askance when he started nodding to the barrel of his gun as if he were having a conversation with it. They met each other's eye and shrugged and went back to watching Simon and Kaylee's antics. Now he had a smearing of flower in his hair and across her jumpsuit.

Jayne was thinking hard on something.

Simon and Kaylee could not look past each other and even though they weren't as bad as the first pair Mal and Inara were new to their lovey-dovey-ness. Zoe, well…Zoe was still with Wash. He didn't think she had the will to start looking after River like Simon had. Her will was bound up in the struggle to go on without her husband.

A memory niggled at his brain, a dream mostly forgotten. Green and gold and laughter surrounding Zoe. That seemed right somehow. River had been there, and that had been alright too; not that he ever had dreams of the moonbrain, never that…but, she had been there.. And someone else.

His frown turned into a sudden scowl. Whoever that had been he hadn't liked it. The smell of blood just shouldn't be on the girl in his dream. It made him mad, fighting mad….and for a moment he wasn't even aware that it was just a dream.

For a moment he felt ready to kill something. No one else on this boat was gonna bleed while he was here to protect them. He was not gonna let that happen.

"Not gonna happen, " he muttered to himself and was not aware that both couples glanced at him for a moment, uneasily. No, if someone was gonna hurt the girl then he was gonna look after her. Stick to her like a second shadow like that prissy brother of hers used to.

After all, it wasn't like there was anyone else who was gonna watch her.


	4. Chapter 4

Usherin skyyybo va. Nope, I don't own them even then.

They were fools if they thought that a cryo-box could contain him; but ever had they been fools, ever since they first caught him. In an instant he could burst from it, like a child from a womb long cold and dead…that was what this box was. A womb of cold death and sleep; but he never slept. Not anymore.

His arms could shred it as if the walls were made of paper and not a compound of steel and plastic, of death and dreams.

But no eyes could penetrate into the box. No cameras, no captures, no one from the outside looking in. For once, he was alone with his own mind, his own eyes looking only into blackness. For him, the blackness had no secrets, and he was content to remain within.

So he hummed.

It was the only thing left to him from that place of his childhood that he could remember. The only thing that seemed to bring a respite from the cold buzzing of machines and the slicing of his captor's minds into his. For too long he had felt their nauseous desires, their insidious little thoughts like bugs crawling under his skin.

So he hummed them away and let his mind wander, free of their tethers, to River.

There was leagues between them, but his thoughts were quicker than any engine, and they found her at the helm of the ship. For an instant _Serenity _resisted his intrusion, but he was nothing if not persistent, and she acquiesced with a resigned sigh.

She had long ago stopped fighting him.

River felt dark eyes upon her the instant Zoe left, but this time she didn't jump, didn't scream, didn't let a tear fall. Her hands remained steady upon the controls and the ship remained steady in the black.

He sought her out too often.

_Little dancer, why do you flee? _His mind touched hers gently, barely brushing alongside hers and she felt her breath shuddering in her chest and her hear thudding in her ears.

Dark black eyes bored into hers and he tried to smile, but all she saw were his fangs and the battle wounds on his body. He was bleeding still, indeed he bled forever, and fear rose up again and tried to drown her.

But this was not the place where fear should dwell, and all around her she felt the ship and a presence of gold and green laughter surround her and soothe away her dread until she was as calm as an ancient lake, still and wide.

_I am a leaf on the wind, watch how I soar._

Why that should make him laugh she didn't know, but it reverberated throughout her skull and her sense of comfort vanished again.

Jayne looked up from his breakfast and frowned. Something wasn't right.

He nonchalantly got up from the table and put his bowl in the sink, then walked out of the room with nothing more than a grunt to the others. Simon was to busy staring at Kaylee to notice, and the others were still eating.

It was a short walk to the bridge where he found River.

She looked so small, sitting in Wash's chair. Her hair had come out of the pony-tail she had taken to wearing and it fell about her face in tendrils. She looked like the little lost crazy girl before Miranda.

The sound of his boots clanking on the floor grating hadn't even caused her to look up. Her eyes were unfocused and concentrated inward, and her fingers were loosed on the controls.

That made his hear skip a beat so he went forward and hesitantly tapped her shoulder.

"Hey, moonbrain," he caught himself whispering and it annoyed him. In a louder tone he continued, "You flying this heap or what?"

River seemed to jerk awake under his hand and he backed off quickly; he want one to forget soup cans to the head, a bread-knife to the chest, or crushed….he winced to himself, no, he wasn't gonna forget anytime soon. Even if he was gonna watch her back.

She looked up at him with wide brown eyes. "Now that the red mantle covers her shoulders and keeps away laughing corpses, yes she is flying."

Then she frowned at him hard. "And she doesn't like to be called a heap. She holds you far too tightly to be a heap."


	5. Chapter 5

It's all mine! All of the world! All the 'Verse!...Zort!

A veil of red separated him from River. He couldn't reach her once in over a week and it was…well, it was frustrating and intriguing. Frustrating because the red veil was so bare and patchwork that it should have split at his first attempt to breach it; intriguing because she had never hidden behind red before.

Oh, she often tried to hide behind the ship's grayness, its shell of dreams and hopes, but that never stopped him. _Serenity _recognized him as if he were a somewhat disreputable son, not the best of company, but still family. After all, he was a part of River now. Had been for a long time.

She had hidden behind earth brown soil and regal gold that smelled of incense. He had often caught her behind robes of sapphire blue that felt so much like a healing salve that he had stayed and swam in the material a while before touching her mind. She hid behind rock-hard magenta, slippery golden green laughter, and sunshine gold so bright that he had feared being burned by it. But no matter how resilient the cloth he had passed through it and found her.

He hid his mind within her own, and she was his comfort.

But now there was the red and all he had was time now, time to wait until he was near her Time to think on what had happened this last time he tad touched her mind. He had been with her, and then there had been the red.

He rarely touched red of that kind among the people who held him and it truly puzzled him. It would make more sense once he saw what type of clothing the red made up. Was it a jacket, something a rogue would wear? The dress or clock of noble-hearts? It was a puzzle that helped him focus his mind on things other than his body.

He had been a month in the box and they hadn't bothered to feed him, or let him out to relieve himself, or move muscles that were screaming in a heightened state of discomfort that had bypassed agony over a week ago; but that was their way…it was _her _way. She was so mean sometimes. But mean was nothing in comparison to her aunt.

She was the one who had brought him to the Alliance people at the Academy. She was the one who had let them play with his insides and try to learn how much damage could be inflicted on his body before it disabled him and how he would function with a tortured mind.

She had put him in that place of sterile white plastic and gray uncaringness, there with the knives and the burning electricity, with no scent but that of chemicals and dead blood. He hated the smell of dead blood. Blood was only right if it was new and bright and red….not black and foul and filled with nothing, nothing at all.

He had been in that place for years without reprieve, drowning in black dead blood.

And then there had been River.

His little dancer.

She had been brought to the heart of that place with such swiftness that her soul could not be hardened to the pain they inflicted with hands and hearts and heads. But she had had compassion.

Where the watchers could not see she had danced, and he had been in her mind while she danced, hiding himself from the smell of dead blood in a plastic room full of scalpels and long harsh needles.

Oh, how easily she had danced his pains away until he had felt nothing but numb bliss.

That had been the first reprieve in his whole existence. And for that he had paid her back in kind. He had shown her how to numb her mind to the horrors by immersing herself in the worst of what the white-coated fools did to them. But she had been so frail and broke sooner than he had thought, she did not have the resiliency of his kind; she was but human after all.

And so they had bargained, he would keep her just sane enough to write her letters to her beloved Simon-- but that only made her leave him alone! Alone in a bog of cloying stench and pain! The mean Simon had taken her away!—and she would let him taste her blood.

He had no doubt that her blood would be bright and fresh, alive and flowing, for she was a River was she not? He did not doubt that her blood would smell like vibrant copper and taste like harsh salt-sea. He did not doubt that her blood would unlock the door to this prison he had made within his own soul….a prison built to keep the pain out.

"Soon, Lauranelleya," he promised the unending darkness of his cramped little box. "I'm coming to collect."


	6. Chapter 6

This is only in my head. I do not own them….I want to….Joss Mi-Bossa

Jaynesdingleberries presents: Chapter Six of Shade Run. Have fun.

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It had been so long since the darkness touched her that River felt her heart beat fuller, which didn't make any sense at all. A heart was an organ, like any other, and her heart was no different from the average human being's.

_Bump-Bump-Ka-Bump. _Or maybe a _thump-thump-thump_ when she was doing strenuous exercise or when she fought or was scared. Her heart had been like any one's, pumping blood at the appropriate pace to keep her alive, moving, and breathing.

But it had been shallow.

Every beat of her heart had been as if there was no true girl living in this shell of a body. There had been nothing from her parents that had made her feel full inside, and Simon…well, he filled other parts of her. The brother parts where his blue hands of healing had soothed her jagged bits. But the brother part of her was only so big, it certainly wasn't all of her and it did not encompass her as wholly as this fullness did.

She was filled with rose madder.

Her color had been suffused with red swirls so bright and livid that they had startled her awake on more than one night. She would wake and wonder at who she was, and why there should be sky blue in all that glorious bloody red, and then she would remember.

Jayne.

With a touch of his fingers on her shoulder he had surrounded her with his long knight's mantle, and before she could accept or refuse the protection that it offered, the red of him, that long-cursed nobleness that he had buried so deep for years, had flooded into her.

Now she could dream in red and the dark would not touch her. Now she could wake with red thoughts and visions. Now she could dismiss her dread with an ease that she had never had save for one brief time in her childhood when dancing had been all that she was.

The red hadn't taken her over completely though, had not doused out her own blue light. Rather it had blended itself with her, darkened her shade until nothing could swim through it errantly or with harsh purpose. He had given her reprieve.

And some of her color had gone into him.

She didn't tell him that though. River knew that he would only think her crazy again, but indeed she was there, in him. She did not alter his shades like he had drastically altered hers, but instead she had made them richer, more vibrant. She had taken the gift of his battered red mantle and she had carefully patched it with soft sky blue silk swaths. True some of the silk had been torn and jagged, but careful fingers could make that look like it was a part of the design.

And River could be very careful and patient when she put her genius mind to it.

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It had started slowly. No one really noticed the way Jayne would watch the girl when she went with them on the jobs or when she danced in the cargo bay, or even when she ate in the mess. Simon, who usually observed his sister so carefully, had other things that took up his thoughts. Like how beautiful Kaylee was, in mind and body, and how he was going to convince Zoe that working on the dangerous jobs that Mal was taking on would not be good for her or her baby.

Of that surprise only three people knew. Zoe, for the obvious reasons, Simon, because he was her doctor, and River, because she was just River. She had managed to slip away from everyone, including the now watchdog Jayne, one day and watch through the med-bay windows as Simon examined the mother to be. Zoe had looked through the glass into River's eyes and all the girl could do was smile at her.

Zoe's smile, small and hesitant after months of being without Wash to smile at, has shown River how bright this child was going to make the warrior. The pulse of green and gold about her had strengthened as well, and River wondered if she should tell Zoe that Wash lingered and watched over both of his loved ones.

She never got the chance to decide. Jayne had gotten real annoyed when he couldn't find the moonbrain and when he found her skulking outside of the med-bay he was practically ready to wring her pretty neck. Not that he found her neck pretty, or anything.

"What're you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be flying this thing? Not like you can leave it to Mal you know, he'll crash us;" and he took her arm, not even noticing the odd looks he was getting from inside the med-bay, and started leading her back towards the bridge. She didn't resist him, had no reason not to.

She found it very amusing when he found an excuse to touch her.


	7. Chapter 7

Yahoo-oo-oo. Me no. Joss yes.

I know this chapter is short, but, it is a great place for new things.

Thankyou for all your reviews. They inspire.

And for everyone wondering who the man is, well, we'll find out soon.

I know. I'm such a stinker.



"Ok Kaylee, what do we need to keep my boat afloat?" Mal asked in his best I-am-the-Captain-you'd-better-listen-up tone of voice. The crew was not very impressed, but River, sitting between Jayne and Simon at the mess table, looked up at Mal with an odd expression on her face.

"What?" he asked nervously, wondering if he had dropped an errant noodle on his shirt…but he wasn't about to take a look when he had his Captain's face on.

"You rhymed." She said, her eyes dancing and she smiled brightly; "Captain Daddy is a poet."

Two things Mal noticed right off. First was the way Kaylee, Inara, and Zoe all seemed to choke on their food…even though Zoe hadn't been eating at the moment…and she had been eating a lot lately. Second, Jayne was glaring at him, and Simon was looking at Jayne all funny-like.

Well, with Simon, that wasn't unusual behavior.

Jayne, now, that was not a bit unusual. What was unusual is that Mal hadn't done any of the things that usually hailed that bone-chilling glare: cussin at Jayne, touching his weapon (though that usually hailed something a little more violent), insulting his weapons, not paying him on time, not get enough food on supply runs…the list was pretty damn big.

But he hadn't done any of that.

With a puzzled look he put aside the fact that Jayne was acting odd, or, well, odder than usual anyway…Mal did his best I-am-Captain-and-I-don't-like-to-be-interrupted-(and-I-didn't-even-hear-you-anyway) and focused on a beaming Kaylee.

"Well, Sunshine?"

Her grease-spattered face turned into a wide smile, obviously pleased at being called Sunshine, Kaylee rattled off a long list of parts, some of which Mal didn't even know existed.

But in a magnanimous voice he announced their impending landing on Beaumonde, which was sort of useless because everyone already knew, had known for half of their flight.

Mal pointed a stern finger at Kaylee, "Inara told me you've been fussin' for another …girly…thingy…so, after you get those parts you, Inara, River, and Zoe will be going to Madam Izzau's."

Kaylee squealed and Inara smiled gracefully. River made no movement other than to tilt her head to the side and look at Zoe. What that was about, Mal didn't know, but River still had her odd moments at times.

Madam Izzau was a respected establishment, where young women could go to get away from "a testosterone-soaked ship" as Inara had put it. It was safe and frilly, and as long as none of the females on his ship started to act really girly_ on _his ship, Mal was happy. He was still suspicious at the said females sudden closeness and closed-mouthedness that even Zoe seemed a part of. It annoyed him something fierce when he walked into a room full of women and they'd all go all quiet like.

It was like a conspiracy. A disturbing female conspiracy. And Mal knew better than to ruffle those feathers. So he had done something against his nature and had asked someone her opinion.

Inara had suggested a field trip.

To get rid of the sudden quietness whenever he walked into a room, Mal had agreed. To save his sanity.

"But while you're at the salvage yard," he continued saying to the mechanic, "I want you to take River with you and start her learning all your engineering bits and," he turned, expecting a fight from the next person he was talking to, "Jayne you're gonna play watchdog."

Jayne grunted and gave brief, jerky nod.

That was it. He didn't whine, didn't cuss, or go "Awww Mal!"

He just nodded and accepted an order.

That was when Mal learned something terribly wrong was happening on his boat; but he dreaded finding out what it was.


	8. Chapter 8

Boo-yaw! None of it is mine except what is mine, and everybody knows what's what.

Jaynesdingleberries presents: a new chapter. Wa-hoo!

So here we go.

((0))x x x x x x x x x x xx x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x((0))

Jayne followed the two girls to Al Sui's Scrapyard and he didn't have to work to bring a scowl to his face to intimidate the passersby or the yard's official haggler. He was usually assigned not only to keep Kaylee safe when she bargained, but to also scare the hagglers into giving her more than fair price breaks.

Today he was doing his job so well that the path in front of the trio was clear of people, who fell to the side or scurried away at his look.

His eyes weren't focusing on the path in front of them, rather they continuously slipped to River's slender back. She walked as if she was buoyant, a gliding optimistic female that was drawing more than one interested looks from people going the other way. It didn't help that she was foolish enough to dress in one of her smaller form-fitting dresses, or that she let her silky black hair to fall in a riot of curly waves all about her.

She looked very cute. Too damn cute for her own good. She was drawing far too much attention. Male attention. And the men in this part of Beaumonde's docks weren't much in the way of brains and too much in the way of…other things.

And by the way she and Kaylee were talking, their voices often interspersed with giggles and once outright laughter when they passed a dress-shop with something frilly and pink-ish inside. He didn't doubt she was smiling again.

She had a very bright smile.

Mal hadn't deserved to get smiled at just because he didn't know how to talk like a normal person.

And Jayne wasn't much sure he liked how sweet River sounded when she called that insufferable man 'daddy'. Mal weren't her pa, but Jayne knew she thought of him as one, and it made him clench his fists when she overly sweet to the captain. Or anyone, even Simon.

Not that Simon didn't deserve her being sweet to him, him being her brother and all, but he hadn't been payin' too much mind to her. And if a brother couldn't look after his sister, then what good was he?

"Good as a gun or knife if need be. He sees more than you," River said suddenly to him over her shoulder, startling him something fierce.

"Gorram it! Stay out of my head." He growled at her, but there wasn't as much conviction as there had been a month ago when he had said something similar to her. Indeed it seemed as if all his grumblings recently had become no more than a habit.

They arrived at Sui's yard a moment later. There was a big man waiting just outside the gates, to deter any rowdiness from perspective customers. He wasn't as big as Jayne, but he was heavier, built, it would seem, out of a wall of muscle.

He had a feathery tattoo on the left side of his face. It looked like a fiery bird, a phoenix perhaps, coming down to rest on an equally fiery wheel.

He looked stoic and unconcerned when the trio came near but that didn't fool Jayne none, the man would erupt like a volcano if any trouble started. But he still gave the man a hard look, and like rival dogs sizing each other up during their first meeting, the line was drawn.

The man didn't seem affected by it, didn't even blink. But he did glance at Kaylee and River.

It was a perfect time for River to spout off with one of her odder comments; "He'll be locked in a box, she'll wear red and dance on the dawn. Not long till the crown is worn, not long till the dark is cast down!"

That drew the guard's full attention and just to get his brown eyes off the moon brain Jayne grabbed her arm in his big hand and ushered the girls inside.

Kaylee approached the counter where a dour-faced man with a large cauliflower ear and sparse gray blonde hair. He kept his hand on River's arm and gave it a slight warning squeeze.

River looked up at him with a frown. "Don't worry Jayne. We are purple, like royalty. Roses and madness with shred the night sky and it will reveal much more than expected."

Uh, sure. She was going crazy again. Doc had been wrong about her getting' better. That really seemed to disappoint Jayne for some reason.

"Not crazy, silly. You aren't helping Kaylee."

_Tamade. _She was right. He had just stood there trying to figure out what she had said and not helped Miss Sunshine's bargaining at all. So he looked away from moon brain and started glaring really hard at the older man behind the counter.

The main's voice faltered, then steadied after a moment. Oddly enough, the price he had been arguing for had gone down considerably.

River smiled up at Jayne, and not being able to not notice it when she smiled recently, Jayne glanced down from the side of his glare and felt a surge of something in his chest that he had no name for when he saw it was her bright smile.

When they returned to _Serenity _about a half hour later with Jayen toting a large bage full of gears and other parts, Mal was waiting for them at the hatch.

Or waiting for River, at least.

River could feel Jayne's surge of annoyance when Mal walked over to her, and she felt Jayne even more violent emotion when he gave her a rare half hug about her shoulders. "Hey, Lil' Albatross, I got something I want you to look at."

She tilted her head at him, curious of the request.

"Fanty and Mingo got us a job. One that we havent done for a while yet, not since we took on you and the doc. They want us to transport a passenger and some of her things from here to a little moon near Whitefall called Khiaron. They're gonna pay good, and so is she. But what I want from you is an assurance that she'lll not recognize you or cause any trouble."

"And Madam Izzau's?" River asked anxiously.

"Won't cancel it. I know how to trust my survival instincts after all," he grinned at her and she smiled back at him. She could feel a hot dark surge of red from the side of them and frowned at Jayne suddenly.

"You are being loud." she complained.

Mal looked at Jayne with a frown, then dismissed what she said because this was River, after all. When Mal's back was turned Jayne made a quick gesture that clearly indicated what he would like to do to the captain's neck if he ever got it in his bare hands.

Kaylee watched this exchange with wide eyes, and something like a creeping comprehension that wasn't sure if it wanted to come forward and become a surety or dash back into her subconscious and hide whimpering under a bed. _Jayne and River?_

Suddenly the lady was there in front of Mal and River. Mal felt a slight surge of panic, wondering if Jayne was gonna do something stupid as usual when there was a very beautiful woman nearby.

And the woman was beautiful, there could never be a denial about that. She had porcelain skin and raven-black hair and eyes so startlingly blue that they reminded River of Simon's colors.

But blue wasn't this woman's color…at least not that good of a blue. She wore a green blue set of robes that could have represented her colors, but only if it had been dipped in a gallon or two of expensive scent.

She smelled like sweat death and rotted corpses, and at the same time she smelled like roses and apples on a gentle morning. River understood her at the first glance, though, the first smell of her.

"You are Cerulean." River said, matter-of-factly, not trying to make her tone seem more friendly. But this woman wouldn't know friendly if it reached up and bit her on her evidently nicely shaped derriere.

"Close, my name is Siama de Caerulaeus. You must be Miss Brooke."

River wanted to roll her eyes at Mal, for such an obvious name, then focused on the woman. Then she focused on the large stack of crates the woman stood next to, all loaded on an obviously straining dolly cat.

River could feel the darkness within the box, felt black eyes look back at her. This woman had brought the darkness with her and for an instant River considered panicking, then squashed it the thought.

She had run far enough, had seen too much during Miranda and before that when she dreamed of nasty blue hands. Not to mention the fact that she was protected with a red that was growing stronger and more vibrant each day.

So she looked straight into the heart of the darkness and the terrible soul of the man in the box.

Then she turned and whispered into Mal's ear, "We must bring the lost one in out of the cold. Don't let the black take them harshly. Let her come."


	9. Chapter 9

Like always: I am not boss. Joss is. Joss is boss see? It rhymes.

Jaynesdingleberries presents for your viewing pleasure: Shade Run Chapter Nine

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It was strictly the girls going out this time. After delivering the parts to _Serenity _

Kaylee and River left Mal and Jayne to help load Siama's things into the cargobay

and rushed up to Inara's shuttle.

Although the now ex-Companion hadnt been staying there, rather had been sharing

Mal's bunk instead, there was only so much leeway the Captain could handle when it

came to redecorating his living space. So Inara had reclaimed her shuttle as a

relaxation room for when she wanted to surround herself in luxury and comfort.

This is where Zoe, Kaylee, and River had agreed to meet her, so that they may

prepare for a nigt out at Madam Izzau's.

By the time the two had reached the shuttle, Zoe was already there and halfway

ready, her hair was left loose and wild, her bronze skin complimented by a lovely

gold and red dress that hugged her figure and revealed the slight bump of her belly.

No one who didnt already know she was pregnant would tell at first glace that the

warrior woman was expecting a child. And the only people who knew at the moment

were Zoe, Simon, River, and just recently Inara and Kaylee.

This was the reason the women had decided for a night out. To celebrate the

comming newborn and to discuss how in hell they were going to break the news to

Mal without him pitching a fit.

Inara, looking impeccable as ever, was just about to add the final touch of

cosmetics when River and Kaylee entered.

"Oh wow Zoe, you look shiny." Kaylee breathed in wonder, her eyes big.

Zoe smiled one of her rare, small smiles, and said "Thank you _mei mei. _Its been a

while since i dressed up like this."

The last time had been at Wash's funeral.

"So I hear we are having a passenger this route," Inara said with a smile as she

applied a gentle touch of kohl to Zoe's eyes with a deft hand.

Kaylee nodded exitedly as she started to clean up at the small bathing sink. "Oh

yes, she seems really shiny. She kinda looks like River."

River, glanced up from from looking at the available dresses Inara had laid out on

the bed. Her forehead furrowed in puzzlement. "She is five point two inches taller

than me, her eyes are blue, and she have very large mamary glands."

At that her last point her eyes looked down to her own chest and she gave a

dissapointed sigh, "I think I shall never be sufficient."

Inara laughed and, finished with Zoe, she gave the girl a gentle hug. "Large or small

...mamary glands dont' make a woman more or less attractive. It is the woman

herself that is attractive, not her attributes. You are fine _mei mei, _and more than

'sufficient'." Her eyes twinkled, "I expect Jayne thinks the same."

Zoe and Inara shared a chuckle when River and Kaylee's jaws dropped open at the

same time.

"I just found out today...how did you.." Kaylee asked while River just spluttered.

"I am, or at least I was, a Companion." Inara said gently, supportively.

"And I know how it is between a man and a woman who love each other." Zoe said,

her own eyes sad, and suspiciously misty.

River met her eyes and asked, "Do you think it is love?"

"Do you?"

River smiled and picked up the first dress that had caught her eye, a lovely sleek

silk dress of a rich violet, a perfect blend of blue and red, held it up to her chest and

performed a graceful lady-like curtsey to the the women who were waiting for her

answer.

"I think that the days to come will be very interesting."

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Jayne was locking the last of the woman's cargo down in the cargobay while Mal

was giving this-is-my-boat-I-am-boss-here speech. He was vaugly annoyed that they

were having a stranger on the boat, even though she was kinda shiny.

It didnt occur to him that she was a bit more than shiny, only that another pair of eyes

on the boat that would make his protecting of the moonbrain all that more difficult.

Specially if the lady took it in hear head to betray them.

She was one of Fanty and Mingo's people after all, and that didnt promote trust on

his part, even if RIver said to bring her on. Sometimes that girl didnt know what was

good for her, like all those times she went around barefoot.

He had taken to chasing her around the boat with her boots in hand and a scowl on

his face.

Last time that had happed he had startled Inara when she was making her tea; he

supposed the glare he had been wearing had been rather scarier than normal

because she had nearly dropped her cup.

"Seen the moonbrain?" he had growled, and she had shaken her head in denial. So

he had gripped the boots in hand and started off again, muttering. "Gorram

moonbrain cant even think to wear her gorram boots."

So he wasnt about to fully trust the woman who was listening intently to Mal.

Not that he didnt trust the moonbrain's judgement, but who really listened to Mal that

intently?

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He could feel her above him, and he felt her light-heartedness, her joy. And he felt

the redness beside him. It perhaps wasnt the smartest thing to do, not with the mean

woman so near, but he had to touch the red that was so near to him.

His touch was gentle as he brushed aside the dark strands of suspicion and

annoyance until he had a clear view of the heart of the redness.

He could see the heart of a man, tattered and torn by betrayal and a harsh 'verse.

This man had lived a life full of pain and strife, not as much as the man in the box

had, but it caused the walls of his own heart to flutter.

And then he saw the shades of blue, of River's blue, deep within the heart of this

broken man remade into a stone.

A fresh need to taste her blood assailed him and it was so strong that he had to

fight hard to keep calm, to wait, until his time to come out of his cramped dark box

came.


	10. Chapter 10

**Yeah, I don't own them. Joss Shall ever and always be THE BOSS.**

**Sorry for the delay. Colds aren't fun.**

**And Jaynesdingleberries presents: Chapter Ten of Shade Run**

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The new passenger was in one of the guest bunks, setting it up for the journey into the black. Mal and Jayne were checking the last of the cargo, while Simon was pacing the cargo bay.

Simon had been pacing back and forth for nearly five minutes straight and it was beginning to wear on Mal. When Simon started rhythmically thumping his fist into his palm Mal couldn't take anymore.

"You got something bothering you doctor?" Mal asked, he sounded annoyed and Captainy. Jayne didn't seem to care, he was fiddling with some netting and looked preoccupied.

"Yes." Simon said suddenly and walked up to Mal, but he didn't thrust forward his jaw as he did when it was Mal he was mad at. "I would like to talk with you."

"Well I'm right here, doc, so if you have something to say go right on ahead and say it."

Simon paused, and said lowly, "Not here."

Mal frowned, but when Simon glanced at Jayne, Mal nodded slowly, as if he understood why Simon wanted to keep what he wanted to say out of Jayne's hearing, though he really didn't. But Simon was Simon and maybe this was some sort of Core upbringing thing that the doc tended to bring up over some petty or inconvenient little thing.

"Okay, doc, lead on." he said, and followed the shorter man to the other side of the cargo bay, a bemused expression on his face. When they had apparently gone far enough Simon turned and looked Mal hard in the eye.

"Its about River."

"What about her?" Mal asked, expecting the doc to go off in one of his usual tirades about her being young and him not wanting her going on jobs, him not liking the new passenger because she could tell the feds about them, or maybe because Mal had given her permission to get off the boat for tonight. In fact Mal had a reply readied for each argument that Simon could make, or so he thought.

The problem was, Simon wasn't trying to make an argument.

"She…I don't know how to say this." Simon said, with his head lowered and his and squeezed his eyes shut, as if he didn't like the image in his own mind.

Mal felt his stomach tighten, if this was something really bad…River was like a good luck charm to him. His Little Albatross. He felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him, just as it had in the Maidenhead when she had fallen among all them people she head beat senseless. He had had to pick her up and not leave her there. So, okay, maybe she was more than a good luck charm but if something was really wrong to worry Simon this much…. "What is it doc?"

"I have been noticing some odd behavior recently. I couldn't attribute it to any…instability that she has suffered in the past and it really is disturbing.."

"Doc, _what is it?"_

"She has a crush." Simon finally said, as if he were delivering news of a death.

For a moment Mal felt like the bottom dropped out of his stomach, and then righted itself with a snap. His voice rose as he exploded. "What! You made me think that something was wrong! I thought she was hurt or sick or something!"

His sudden outburst caused Jayne to look up from across the room, but hearing Mal yell at Simon wasn't anything new and when there didn't seem to be anything more interesting happening he turned his attention back to the netting. Mal couldn't see what was so interesting about a cargo net, but at least it kept his mercenary occupied.

"It _is _serious!" Simon whispered furiously, and he looked so miserable it gave Mal pause.

"She's an adult, Simon. It isn't unusual for her to…have…a…" Wait. A. Minute. Mal blinked. There was a queasy rolling in his stomach. "River has a crush? On who?"

Simon's face seemed to contort into something like distaste. He looked as if he was in pain. "It's…it's…"

"Not me?" Mal asked, genuinely afraid. It would be very flattering if a young girl had a crush on him, it would flatter his ego something fierce. But this was River, a girl he thought on as his own daughter, even if he rarely admitted it to himself, and he very much didn't want to hurt her feelings. It just seemed uncomfortable and…ucky.

"No, not on you Mal." the doctor said heavily.

"Oh, good then." Mal said, much relieved. Then his newly-developed paternal instincts kicked in again and he straightened, his face got that I'm-ready-to-kick-in-some-one's-head look. "Who the hell is it? One of those dock kids? Cause I will bust one of them dumb punks in the gorram head if they tried to mess with one of my crew…"

"Ah, no. Not one of the dockers, Mal."

"Well there ain't any other young men around here….hold it. Are you telling me that River's got a crush on of our womenfolk? I mean Inara was a Companion and I understand that she is very glamorous and all-"

"No Mal, it's- it's Jayne."

All he received in return was a blank, I-am-not-at-all-sure-what-this-person-has-just-said look. And then came comprehension. And a lot of spluttering and the eew face. It was kinda amazing how different Mal's 'eew face' was different from his 'ucky face' which he made whenever he ate something that Simon made; it was a fine difference, but one can not mistake it for the other.

And Simon said the other thing that had been worrying him during their last few voyages in the black, watching the big mercenary follow River with his eyes, chase after her with her boots in hand, and act extra-intimidating anytime they docked and someone, particularly a male someone, noticed River.

"There's worse." Simon said, and Mal looked up at him with a face twisted up in the same eew face.

"What?" Mal asked, in his own mind wondering what could be more worse than River being so severely mentally incapacitated by what the Academy did to her that she could actually find _Jayne Cobb _as---he quickly substituted the word _attractive _with a much easier to think about without flinching--- 'a suitable person to have a crush on'.

"I-I think her feelings are reciprocated." Simon stated heavily, and waited for the storm.


	11. Chapter 11

Here I am at it again. I say hello and how are you? And then I ask "Ready for more?"

Then I have to say, regretfully, that I do not in any way own the Firefly 'Verse cause that would be bad, bad, bad of me.

I can still say I want it though. Hehe.

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Jayne frowned, hearing his name and glanced up to see the doc and Mal talking. All he could see of Simon was his back and Mal stood in front of him, looking at the shorter, stockier doctor with an I-am-in-the-mood-to-hit-something look.

Jayne snorted. Mal could patent a look, so he could. Those two could have their staring contests all they wanted; 'cept for that one time Simon had punched Mal that was all their talks lead up to. Jayne was more concerned with a feeling of...he wasn't sure what.

He looked at the netting in his hands. It was ruined for cargo work; best thing to do with it would be to junk it and get another one for stowing small canisters. But he had an idea. If he cut the materiel and added that bit of leather for straps and the excess canvass that had been sitting in storage for months and would probably rot there if it weren't used up proper…well the moon brain had been needing a good vest when she went out on jobs. Her flowery dresses were just so….delicate…that they wouldn't stop a bullet or anything else that hit her. And he knew that if acted kinda nice to Kaylee she'd give him some steel plates from the scrap yard and he could fashion some type of body armor and if he could figure a way of inserting the plates into the vest so that they wouldn't pinch or constrict her movement or hurt her delicate skin…

There was a slight commotion as the women folk started coming down from Inara's shuttle. Jayne wasn't sure why he had been listening for that, but he had and his attention fixed on the stairs they'd walk down in a few minutes intently, the netting forgotten in his hands. He was so focused on it he didn't even hear Mal coming up behind him.

"Jayne there's something we're gonna have a talk about now." Mal growled out, but it was too late. The girls were coming down the stairs and Jayne's eyes almost fell out of his head, or at least they felt like they should. He knew, he just knew, that he had dislocated his jaw when it had dropped to the floor.

River walked down behind Kaylee and Inara but in front of Zoe. She was wearing some kind of slinky silk dress that fell way too short, it bared her legs up to above the knees, that had tiny straps to keep it on her slim shoulders. It was purple, Jayne thought…no, not purple, more like a mix of red and sky blue…whatever it was it looked good with her hair falling wildly down her back in riotous dark curls and her eyes made bigger and darkened with kohl. Then he gave up the onerous task of trying to think and just stared.

Mal frowned, noticing that he didn't have his merc's attention at all and turned to see what the hell the big man was staring at. He caught sight of River and his newly discovered paternal instinct started gibbering madly in a corner. Then he saw Inara and the rest of him started gibbering madly and what all the little gibbering parts of him were saying didn't make a lick of sense to his star-struck mind.

Simon looked over at the two drooling men and turned, just as the new passenger came out of the passenger dorms and started walking towards him. She didn't reach him before his eyes fell on Kaylee and there were three men, bug-eyed and drooling on the deck. She looked at the women descending the stairs and suppressed a chuckle. She didn't think a platoon of sharpshooters could have disabled the men-folk of _Serenity _as quickly or nearly as effectively as these women had, just by walking down all made up. She had to admit to herself that they looked very nice, for humans.

"Hello." Siama de Caerulaeus said, cheerfully to the women now on an eye-level with her. "I just came out to say I had to step off the boat for a little bit before we lifted off, but it seems as if people's attention is a bit preoccupied with the exotic sights."

That caused Mal and Simon to break out of their stupor and looked vaguely stunned and a little embarrassed. Jayne stayed in the trance, though now he was frowning and looking thunderous. He had just realized that the moon brain was going to be _walking out of Serenity looking like that _and there were gonna be a whole lot of men that would _see her walking out of Serenity looking like that. _And he _wouldn't be there._

River smiled and continued walking past him without turning seeming to notice his dark expression. He knew she was ignoring him and it was making him mad something fierce. Wasn't right for her to walk out looking like that and just…_ignore _him. He was singularly un-ignorable. Jayne didn't realize he had started to growl, even when Mal looked at him funny.

Inara laughed pleasantly and the compliment and found herself liking this lovely woman with the wonderful sense of humor. "Thank you. You must be Miss Caerulaeus. I am Inara Sera, formerly of House Madrassa," she curtseyed elegantly, "and these are my crewmates Kaylee Frye, Zoe Washburne, and--"

"I've already introduced the lady to Miss _Brooke _ and Simon." Mal interjected hurriedly to avoid disaster.

--"Miss Brooke." Inara finished smoothly, cause River had already told her about what Mal had done. Her eye flashed annoyance at Mal for a second and then retuned to Siama, friendly and kind. "Its nice to meet you."

"The same, Mistress Serra de Madrassa." Siama said with a regal nod. She felt some admiration for this woman. She had heard much about Companions during her years as liaison with the Parliament and what she had learned suggested profound discipline and grace; some things she respected greatly.

Then she looked at River and admired the way the girl cleaned up. She appreciated beauty, it was one of the few things she liked, and he had to admit that the girl was lovely. Siama looked at the other women, they all were.

She turned to Mal who was barely recovered from his Inara-induced state and asked haughtily, "I understand that you'll not be leaving until the morrow?"

"Um, right. I want the boat up first thing."

"Good. I have some last minute things to tie up. I'm sure I'll be back before liftoff. Good day, Captain." She said and just before she exited the hold she turned and looked briefly at River. "Good luck."

River smiled and nodded. "Quantifiable."

Siama's perfectly shaped eyebrows rose but she made no comment as she turned and left.

"That's a strange woman." Mal said, almost to himself.

"Not a woman," River said.

"You saying she's a gorram man?" Jayne asked belligerently, just to get her attention. All she gave him was one of her 'you're an idiot" looks that she usually reserved for Simon or Mal. Jayne felt insulted and he started to glare.

Mal saw the glare and remembered his very important airlock speech which he had forgotten when looking at Inara. He turned to Jayne.

"There's something we need to discuss--"

He was interrupted by gunshots.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: insert vague disclaimer of your choice here. Then read the part where I am not the owner, just the renter.**

**Then hold on to your butts. (Jurassic Park quote, if you didn't catch it….my mom's favorite)**

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The purple bellies came out of nowhere. There were five of them, all in riot gear, and they would have hit someone if it hadn't been for River. She had rushed to the hatch release just when Mal turned to Jayne and a barrage of bullets pinged off the hull.

"River get us in the air now!" Mal screamed, the one bullet that had actually gotten in had hit him in the side of the leg and he was having trouble standing up. Jayne caught him by the arm when he started to fall.

"Kaylee get us some power!" Mal managed to yell and the mechanic ran towards the engine room, thoughtless of her pretty pink dress or her carefully made up hair. Her fingers flew as she made _Serenity's _hear roar to life. By the time he had finished River was already in the pilot's seat, sure hands on the controls and they were in the air and less than two minutes they'd hit atmo and were well on their way.

Simon lead the way to the infirmary wile Zoe and Jayne half dragged half carried a cursing Mal along; Inara followed behind them and her dark hair trailed behind her, her usually serene face was now creased with many emotions: fear, concern, worry, the on-setting of shock. It didn't take them long to reach the operating table where Simon began to stop the bleeding.

From the infirmirary Zoe sped up to the bridge, her short barreled shotgun somehow magically in her hands. When she reached River she found that the genius pilot had already set the controls and was coming down to be with the others.

"There is no pursuit." River said, her head cocked to the side. "Captain Daddy is going to be mad."

"Was it the passenger?" Zoe asked as she and River hurried back down towards the med room where Mal's voice could be heard cursing at Simon, his leg, the bullet, Simon, the pain, and Simon. Jayne's head snapped up as they came in the door and River, instead of answering the second in command, walked up to Mal and threw her arms around him and she gave him a big hug. It looked faintly comical: Mal propped up with his arms trying to tell the doc how best to remove the bullet and falling back down to the bed when her hug forced his arms back to his torso.

Jayne wasn't amused. Infact, he looked livid.

"Well, thanks 'tross, but answer Zoe. Was it that Caeulaeus woman?" Mal asked, his voice faintly raspy from being strangled.

"No, inevitability." At his blank look she added, "The man who worked at the scrap yard recognized me and called the authorities."

"You knew this and you still had us sit here wide open while you gals got pretty?" Jayne growled, more from not liking River quite where she was than for an accusation. River knew this but looked at him with hurt eyes.

"I never heard it from him. It was the leader of the squad who said it." River said petulantly, her lower lip sticking out. Jayne didn't apologize aloud, but she heard it in his heart when he realized he had hurt her feelings. She decided to ignore him for now and focus on Mal; she felt Jayne's color rise to an angry crimson when she didn't take her arms away from the captain.

"She will want to talk with us in ten minutes though. Simon will be done before then." River assured and then looked down to where Simon was trying to dig out the bullet, but it seemed it was avoiding the grasp of his forceps. "To the left."

"I expect she will," Mal said, his face turning an even lighter shade of white when Simon followed her instructions and began digging to the left. "After all we're supposed to get her _and_ her stuff to the destination."

"Will not matter, she will want it delivered anyway." River said, her eyes still on where the cold surgical steel entered Mal's calf. It was bloodied about two inches in. The color of blood on steel seemed to hold her attention.

"What, without her? She paid double just to get passage."

River looked up at Mal, her eyes serious. "It will not matter. We will deliver to Khiaron by her leave. She will ask it."

Her eyes looked out of the window in the direction of where the cargo was stored and felt again those dark eyes on her, on the others too.

_Lauranelleya…_

"As long as the cargo is on the ship she will be fine."

------------------- ----------------- -----------------------

"As long as the cargo gets delivered on time, it will suit." The voice of Siama de Caerulaeus echoed in the cockpit. Her face was ghostly pale on screen, but her eyes were adamant. Mal, his leg propped up in the second pilot's chair and his other grasping the control panel to keep from falling over, his eyes on hers.

She had seen _Serenity _liftoff after the gunfire and had decided a wave to be the first imperative thing to do after she had gotten away from the scene. "I understand your need to fly when you did, Captain Reynolds. I will still pay the agreed upon price as long as my things get to Khiaron in good time. I will arrange passage at a later time."

Mal thanked her, said a polite goodbye and turned the screen off when the wave ended. River had been right. Not ten minutes had passed and the wave had come in with a concerned face on the other end, asking if everyone was okay.

River sat beside him in the primary pilot's chair, an I-told-you-so look on her face. She hadn't changed out of her nice clothes and that reminded Mal of something that he had been starting to say when the first shot had rung out.

No one was in the room so he decided to have a talk with his Albatross, a heart to heart talk that would stress most definitely how _not right _a crush on Jayne Cobb was. He opened his mouth to start saying the words but she intercepted him.

"Not for you to decide, al ready is past." She said, looking out into the black at something he couldn't see.

"You mean you're…over it?" he asked hopefully, eyebrows raised.

"No. It is simply pas the crush phase. It is more real now." She said calmly and, for good measure, turned to look him full in the face. "If he gave me problems I could always kill him with my brain."

"Well River he's—"

"I know. You should get some sleep, Captain Daddy. It's going to be a very long day tomorrow." And with that she gracefully hopped off her chair and started for the door. Before she reached it she turned, her dark wild hair obscuring half of her face; her eyes seemed flat and ghostly in the dark.

"Don't worry. Company's coming."


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Nothing is Mine. I whish a few of them were. Hehe. I'll let you guess.**

**Sorry for the delay (Celtic Faire Rules!) Jaynesdingleberries presents: Shade Run Chapter 13!**

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_Serenity _was falling asleep. Slowly, surely. The man in the box could feel it as if the tiring and dreaming minds of the crew were like waves and the tide was rushing in to drown him. He could feel the captain's dreams, filled with an angry red buzzing where he was shot, and also filled with pleasant airy dreams of golden webs of light as he held Inara tighter to his chest.

The other's were almost identical, except for the being shot bit. Simon and Kaylee were not quite in the dream state yet; he could feel their rapture and he quickly looked away, else it blinded him.

Still seeing sparks of white-gold and sapphire blue burning behind his eyes he looked in on the second-mate and found her oddly alone and yet not alone. He could not figure out how a person could be both at once. It was true that she was growing in some way, and that a spirit of green and gold laughter followed closely to her, embracing her, shielding her from the harshness of being truly alone. The man shifted in his box, unusually uncomfortable with the image of the dark-skinned warrior woman curled up with tears in her eyes that were never to be shed, clutching a blanked to her chest because it was one that still smelled like the man who was now a spirit. He surmised that the tears were from the fact that the smell was fading, and that somewhere deep inside of the woman something else was degrading, coming closer and closer to a breaking point.

The tension inside his chest was too much for him to take at the moment, when he was in desperate need of the quiet of numbness again so he fled from her as well. His mind fled then to River and met the wall of red, but instead of trying to breach it he immersed himself in it, letting it roll over him for a second. The man called Jayne was tiring of his pacing in his bunk; a few paces one way, turn around, a few paces back, turn around. He was a caged animal, near to raging with a need he could not name for he did not understand it yet. The man in the box felt that need, reveled in it. The girl had always needed a protector and had gone through many in her life: her brother when she was a child, him when she was in the Academy, her brother again when he rescued her from the Academy, the captain of _Serenity _when she ran from the Alliance, and now this man who had not a clue that he had just acquired the most precious cargo of all to protect—her heart.

He was relieved that she had chosen one so solid as this red man, he was like a wall of stone, a rock perhaps, and he complimented her flowing nature perfectly; he just whished the man would not be such a fool when it came to dealing with the fact that he was her soul-mate.

The buzz of pain caught his attention again, and took it away from Jayne and back to Mal. His own leg twitched in sympathy. He had not expected the crew to get shot at. No one had, not even the blue lady.

Suddenly he could feel his calm mind jar against a harsh wall of razors as he felt the four beside him begin to stir in their small boxes; he could feel their muscles in his head. They felt like they were in agony, these four hands in blue, and their agony passed into him with resounding swiftness. They were making his head ache, and after so many hours of the black's soothing numbness he could feel his eyes begin to throb with the force of their discomfort.

He didn't like having his peaceful darkness move and shimmy with the pain of others so he detached himself from them and sought the red again to calm his shaking vision.

Ever since that first time that he had touched the red it had held him entranced as if he were a curious fly that had been led into the spider's parlor. It enfolded him as if it was flannel; a warm material that was neither swelteringly hot nor unbearably constricting. It made him feel that warmness deep inside and he felt some envy towards River. His little dancer had always gotten off easy: fewer tests, less painful conditioning (even if it was just as traumatic to her then fragile mind as what they had done to him had been to his), escape because there was one person who adored her in her life and would do anything for her, and now this. This red was so much in tune with her that it made his head spin more than the blue hand's aching muscles had but he held onto it, knowing that soon he would not be able to shelter himself in it. Soon it would not be there.

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The ship was asleep. He could sense the crew either asleep or nearing that state of partial death when the he noticed something new. A noise that was not just in his head, but ringing in his ears as well. He could feel them when they got out of their crates. He suspected that they were moving silently as humans could, but the sound still rang against his sensitive eardrums like breaking glass.

The four men were sore and complaining in their minds; they had been in their crates for two hours before the crew of _Serenity_ had started loading them and being stuck in a dark cramped space hadn't improved their dispositions. He wished that they had been in his box though, for as long as he had; he was not susceptible to as much damage as a human was, but damn if it still hurt like gorram hell before his muscles had given up the fight and decided that they wouldn't get relief any time soon. The numbness was fading away now because excitement was setting in--

--he was getting out.

The thought barely crossed his mind when the cryobox's lid swished open with barely a sound to a normal person, but it sounded to him like thunder, the sort of sound you hear when you realize that the storm isn't approaching you, but that it is already there.

The lights were dimmed in the cargo bay of the ship to save energy during the crew's sleep cycle, but it was enough to blind him and burn his eyes as if the small points of safety-lights were nova suns to eyes that had seen nothing but darkness for so long. But he was certainly no stranger to pain and kept them open and would have lunged out of his small box if it wasn't for the blue-gloved hand above him and the fact that motion had not returned to his cramped muscles yet.

The blue-gloved hand held a slim wand-like metal rod and it was pointed at his left eye steadily. The cold-eyed man looked down at him with disgust and wariness. The disgust might have been for the smell of months worth of unwashed body and sweat and body fluids that had nowhere else to go, but the man in the box knew this man who stood above him, had been in his dark and twisting mind before, and knew it was not the case.

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Agent Tius Anderstelle had given his life and given up his identity in service of the Alliance, but there was nothing that could change his cruel nature. Parliament hadn't even tried for he was a great asset to them.

His specialty was training.

He had spent many years helping to train the beast they had locked in the box, had even helped condition River Tam when she had been a ward of the Academy; but he was one of the few who took supreme pleasure not in the science of it, but in the artistry of making his subjects _hurt._ He understood that to make a person realize his authority, and as such, the authority of the Alliance, that he had to make them feel it through the art of blood-stained gloves and darkly cold metal implements that he had specially designed just for him.

He felt nothing, except when he looked at this creature, or at others whom he had broke in that little room the Academy had reserved just for him. He took pleasure in his work and he was paid well for it; no one whom he had worked on would ever defy the Alliance for fear of him, and that was a point of pride with him.

And River Tam had defied the Academy, had defied _him. _Now he was on the ship that had succored her and her errant brother. He was on the ship that the Operative had helped remake and set free to fly unhindered. He was here and he had a weapon of unparalleled power to take her down. Tius smiled coldly at the man in the box.

"Get up, it's magic hour."


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I am a Jossiple. He rules in this place.**

**Sorry for the delay, it has been midterms. So, with no further ado I present: Chapter 14. **

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They had taken over many ships in the past. The Firefly design was not at all new to them and they moved through _Serenity _with the ease of experience and a sure and perfect purpose. It only took twenty minutes in all for three blue-gloved hard-eyed men to find they way to the bridge, secure it, and then redirect one of the ship's gases, one that every ship required to keep going through the black, to the air vents in the sleeping quarters of the ship's crew.

The gas used, a derivate of hydrohepichloride, caused the sudden collapse of each of the crew who wasn't already asleep into unconsciousness. The three men Tius had set to the task then visited each hatch and with quiet efficiency extracted the knocked out crew from their safe berths.

Secreted away in Siama de Caerulaeus's various towering cargo boxes had been wrist and ankle binders, among other, more terrifying implements. The binders were put to quick use.

As Angent Tius stood in the center of the cargo hold, his fingers gently tapping the thin steel rod in his hands in an absent-minded threat to the man-beast who sat crouched in his own filth at his feet, the other agents positioned, bound, and shackled the crew of _Serenity_ to the steel beams that supported the stairs from below. They followed a protocol Agent Tius had firmly set: the women were bound separate from the men, their hands bound to their ankles in front of them and a thick piece of rope tied their waists to the poles. The men on the other hand were bent backwards, nearly in half, so that their wrists were tied to the ankle on the same side with a chain link and then forced around the poles at their backs and chained together, forcing most of their weight on their delicate knee bones. No doubt when they woke up in about a half hour they would be very sore, if not in pain already.

Tius eyed them all with no expression on his face. All of the crew and Simon Tam, that is, he would not look at River too closely at the moment...that would come later when he could appreciate her waking expressions.

The faces of these people were like any other faces he had seen in his many years of life. They weren't unremarkable, quite the opposite; it was a rarity to find a crew made of such striking visages. He had seen all of their pictures before in reports, and he had known River's face from the few years that he had held her under his control…but there was no comparison between looking at a person in a picture or a video capture and looking at them in real life.

They were like flowers or snowflakes; a veritable garden of exotic looks, each unique to its wearer.

The captain was not the handsomest, perhaps, but his face showed a marvelous character. One that could take a man and make him believe that there was still justice and hope in the 'verse, make a man believe that there was something worth fighting for. Even if it was dirty, underhanded, and downright nasty trick fighting.

Next to him the once Companion drooped, unaware that Tius examined her so thoroughly. She was a rare beauty, this Madrassa whore. There was in her face a quality that made the heart jump and then gentle, knowing it was well cared for. This woman was a balm of kindness.

There was Simon, the brilliant boy. His wonderful hands that brought so much life back from the brink of death's door cruelly wrenched behind his back. This was a healer of the body, as the whore had been a healer of the heart. His face, Tius knew, would have been cool and calm in the face of danger; rarely would anger, fear, or lust blaze in those features unless it was directed towards something that consumed him. The dark-eyed man could see the way Simon leaned into the young woman next to him and knew that _this _ was one of the things that consumed him.

Simon would be a very broken man if anything happened to that girl.

The girl in question was not small or big, not delicate nor voluptuous. She appeared to be a happy medium that was pleased to be where it was. A type of optimistic innocence radiated from her face, relaxed in unknowing bliss.

Tius smiled to himself and looked at the dark beauty tied to the other side of the stairway. This was an Amazon, a warrior woman, and a soon to be mother. The small bump of her pregnancy was obvious under hear sleeping shirt for her position at the post allowed the eye to rest on her belly naturally, as if drawn there. Her face had new lines of grief etched into it, and the steadiness of her face could make a confident man tremble, but she was like any other mother. She would do anything to protect her unborn child.

Then there was the big man, with hard muscles, now slack from the hydrohepichloride. His face was rough-hewn like an ancient sculpted bust; the exception being that his face was carved from hardened granite, not soft fine marble. From this man Tius could find little from his face, except a strong will and most likely a short temper.

Finally the Agent turned his attention briefly to River who had been brought in last to this little party of unconscious bodies bound in odd positions. Her hair was longer than before, he noticed. Without the Academy to trim it to regulation length she had let it become a mass of black waves and curls. Her face was the same as it had been over a year ago when he had last seen her; a different sort of beauty than most women.

Something was there though, an inkling of something new in her face. Perhaps it was her new knowledge of freedom that tinted her features, he surmised.

No matter, he would find out later. The others he had wanted to examine now, while he had the chance. River he could wait on, because he knew he had a long time to be with her, to impress on her just how _disappointed _he was in her failing loyalties.

Beside him the man-beast whimpered. Tius looked down at him and benignly scratched his head; "Be a good dog."

The man shuddered under his gentle touches. Tius frowned. Suits of fine quality had been in Siama's boxes at his request. He was wearing a finely cut Giobranni silk pinstripe, and from the right breast pocket his blue-gloved fingers extracted another rod.

It was very like the rod he held in his other hand as a threatening promise of punishment. But, unlike that rod, which could severely damage the weapon kneeling before him, this new one was merely a sonic disruptor like those other blue-gloved agents were issued.

If it was pressed into a human's flesh it would bring severe pain and if used to a certain limit, it would implode a man's insides, including his brain and the insides of his eyes leaving behind a very dead body.

Tius took the disruptor and gently ran it over the back of the man-beast's neck, knowing as he did so that a sensation like a thousand bee-stings flowed into the man's flesh where the metal of the rod had rested. A little trail of red blood ran down over his collarbones as a result.

Under this very different caress the man quieted and stilled, his wiry body relaxing into the pain.

Tius, his older bones resting comfortably on a crate, smiled and continued the painful petting and, his obedient agents positioned in a quarter-ring round him, he waited for the crew of _Serenity _to awaken.

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Slowly Mal opened heavy eyelids, his eyes burning like he had washed his face in hot pepper oils and his breathing raspy and strained out of a dry, cracked mouth. He could not breath through his nose; it seemed congested even though he had no memory of having a cold.

The next thing he wondered was why the gorram hell his knees felt like they were gonna crack apart at any moment.

Or why his hands were…tied…behind…his…back.

Or why he was in the cargo bay with all of his crew passed out, trussed up like he was. By the blinking of their eyes, and the shaking of their heads, as if they were as foggy as his own.

He was in the perfect position to see River's eyes as she stared into the center of the cargo-bay.

He followed her gaze.

Mal assumed that perhaps he was seeing things, due to the strange sensations that were having odd goings on in his head. He wondered if he had been drugged with a hallucinogen.

Because in a half-ring of suited men in bright blue gloves, seated on one of his client's opened crates, was no one other than Sheppard Book himself.


	15. Chapter 15

**Right, my disclaimer. Okay, so here goes. "I, the undersigned, without a sound mind and body do solemnly swear that none of this, except for what I put in by accident, is mine and indeed all of it belongs to a Joss Whedon Esquire, whatever esquire actually means…etc."**

**Chapter 15**

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"Captain Reynolds, you do seem surprised." This crazy Book said with a smile. However this smile did not reach his eyes. His smile was like razors and white stones. In that moment, a seed of doubt was in Mal's mind, River could hear it whispering madly, trying to tell him that this wasn't Book…this was something _else_.

She understood. She had always understood, even when she had first come aboard _Serenity _and burst screaming from the box. She had seen that man, that dark skinned-man with Tius' face and his gray hair but she had not feared him because she had seen his eyes, his beautiful god-seeing eyes.

This was not Sheppard Book, this man had stolen the God Man's face, but had not been powerful enough to steal his eyes.

Sheppard Books eyes had been dark and warm like a gentle night curled by the fire; this man's eyes were cold as the Black and harder than any metal forged by mankind.

Captain Daddy looked like he had been hit over the head with a club. He was also very, very pale.

She would have been pale like him too, if she had for an instant thought that Tius Anderstelle was his twin brother.

Even with all of his crazy hair and dark secrets of his past Sheppard Book had had a goodness in him that this man had never had. River thought of the Anderstelle twin's mother; what a sad thing for a woman to have, one good son, one bad.

A Jekyll and a Hyde.

But Jekyll was dead now, dead from the ill will of Hyde's son. And the dark Hyde that remained was a man she knew too well from the bad days when she had been in the Academy's dark cold halls. It was fitting, that.

A dark cold hall for a dark cold man.

She had feared this man for too long. Centuries had passed in her mind under his hands, his…teachings. He had been the one to make her move faster, fight better, change her dance into killing. This was the man she had sought to flee, that had made her sanity try to break free of the rest of her. This is the man she had been barely saved from.

But that dark man could not touch her now. Even bound and shackled beside her Jayne was a rock, a stone, a red mantle that bore the careful if slightly jagged patchwork of her own soul that protected her from all that was in Tius' mind or projected from his bitter, empty soul.

And crouched like a bitter animal at his feet was the other man with darkness deep inside him.

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Jayne felt like his head was gonna explode. He had fallen unconscious while pacing in his bunk and the corner of his gun rack was only a little bit harder than his skull. The fact that whatever had knocked him out was still running through his system wasn't helping the situation either.

But he wasn't so hurt that he couldn't see that they were in some deep gorram _gu se. _ He wasn't sure exactly what new kind of _gu se _they were in, but just by seeing that everyone was tied up in the cargo bay set off a number of latent alarms in his head. His eyes felt like someone had rubbed sand in them but he opened them wide, pushing past the discomfort, to assess the situation.

She was curled next to him, tied to her own post, the softness of the over-large sweater she had been wearing to bed brushed against his forearm, it felt fuzzy and warm. He didn't even need to look at her to know she was calm, and focused on the group in front of them. He had a feeling that she should be shaking but she wasn't.

Jayne looked around him quickly, taking in all the details; where each man was positioned, what weapons they carried, what Mal was going to do to get himself shot again…

He saw the many sets of blue-gloved hands and felt his chest constrict. River had feared those monsters, what they had done to her. What had she said? _Two by two, hands of blue. _The remembered fear in her voice, the shaking and convoluted terror she had experienced at their hands made a dark animal deep inside him come to life.

This creature seemed to be a kin of the dragons, so greatly did it rage. It was a beast of flame and wrath and these men who had _dared _frighten and threaten his River, who even now had come from their Core worlds to take her back, to take her _away, _were to be incinerated in its baleful destruction.

It was almost an impossible movement. Because of the way he had been tied, but Jayne twisted what little part of his body that he could to shield River from them and challenged them with a territorial glare.

The eyes of this red dragon alighted on the man seated in the center of these blue-handed devils and almost stumbled at seeing the Sheppard's face staring back at them.

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Mal's voice was raspy, and he felt as if he had swallowed gravel, but it was filled with accusation and incredulity, "You aren't dressed like a Sheppard!"

It was, perhaps, one of the most inane things to say, other than the odd little urge to ask why the gorram hell Book was wearing blue gloves. Perhaps he should ask why, or why indeed the man was living, breathing, or if he was a ghost, why the gorram hell he seemed so corporeal. Or why he was haunting _Serenity _now.

The man just laughed, and Mal wasn't the only one to feel the hair raise on the back of his neck and arms. The sound was like glass, or more specifically, nails smashing through brittle glass. No person should be able to make that sound, but this ghost-Book was.

Mal flinched at the sound. So did Simon, who had finally roused from whatever it was that had knocked them out, and Kaylee beside him , her eyes wide and frightened. He could see Zoe's lips tighten, her only sign of discomfort, and Inara was shaking slightly. He felt his chest constrict at the look in her eyes.

It seemed the only ones who weren't affected was River, Jayne, and the man by this ghost-Book. River, he noticed, watched the man-ghost with calm, placid eyes, though Mal figured she should have been screaming and yelling crazy stuff or going into a even more disturbing crazy-assassin mode.

Jayne, on the other hand, was the opposite, he looked more furious than Mal had ever seen him and was glaring daggers that, if they had been steel, would have left a pile of bloody dead corpses in the cargo bay; his shoulders and hips stretched to the limits of their capacity away from his pole so that most of his torso was in front of River's--the thought that maybe River had been right about Jayne walked through Mal's mind, and, seeing that what was usually spacious quarters was currently overcrowded with thoughts of 'ohgodohgod's and _tamade's _that it decided to walk right back out again to be considered at a later time.

"Oh, Captain Reynolds," the man said, his eyes crinkled in good-natured amusement; "do you really think that I am Book?"

Before Mal could find his tongue to answer the man spring from the crate with a speed that belied his years and walked briskly forward to stare Mal in the eyes. Something deep inside Mal hardened; this man who wore the face of his beloved friend was nothing like Book, he realized. Those eyes were harder than diamonds.

"My name, Captain, is Tius. _Agent _Tius Anderstelle. And while you knew a _Sheppard _ who looked like me, I can assure you that man and I were nothing alike."

The man spun away, and looked at the crew of _Serenity _with an impassive face.

"I have been called a connoisseur of faces;" he said, into thin air, almost as if he were talking to himself. "I collect them, you see, in little glass jars. I have so many of them that I have forgotten the exact count, but I love them. Each one is unique, in its own way."

He turned dark eyes to look up to the ceiling of the bay and his body took the pose of a grand orator, giving an enlightening speech to the illiterate savages. "My brother and I shared a face, however, as twins are wont to. Which I suspect you knew, as he was once a member of your crew and you saw him dead at Haven."

"How do you know?" Mal asked belligerently, his own eyes grim at the memory of his friend's death played in his mind. It was still to raw, too near a pain. He wanted to hit something, badly.

The man looked back at him and gave a careless shrug. "It was in my son's report."

"Your son?"

"The man you knew as the Operative, though he is certainly not known as that anymore." Tius said with another cold laugh. This time Mal was ready for it and didn't flinch as his body screamed at him to do.

"And what exactly is he called now?" Not that he really wanted to know, but staling seemed like a good idea at the time. Gave him time to think of a plan. Any plan at the moment would do. He was pleading inside for a plan to pop into his head.

"Dog meat."


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Do not sue. please?**

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Mal blinked, surprised, then shrugged. "Ri-ight. I hope you're not offended or anything, but I really don't give a damn if he's dead."

And he wasn't, not really. The Operative had been responsible for the deaths of two of his crew and many dear friends that had given _Serenity _and her crew a safe berth in rough times.

Mal hoped the man in front of him couldn't tell that he was shaking inside, wondering how they could have taken the Operative down so quickly and, considering Tius' bland way of stating the fact, so easily.

"Oh no, Captain. I understand that you're not a hypocrite; and I appreciate the fact that you are forthright on how you feel. Oh, and I forgot my manners!" he said dramatically, his hand lazily pointing to the other agents behind him. They were all stoic and blank, like robots. "May I introduce Mr. Ferger, Mr. Leiland, and Mr. Johnson? They were the gentlemen who dragged your deadweight from your bunks and set you all up with, well, your new accommodations."

Mal said something rather nasty in Chinese. The man smiled coldly at Mal then, as if the glare directed at him had finally caught his attention, turned to Jayne.

How the big man's muscles must feel after many minutes in such an uncomfortable position, Mal couldn't guess, but by the aches in his own knees he would have bet cashy money that it was considerable.

"The mercenary, Jayne Cobb." Tius mused, linking this face with the name on file he had examined before embarking on this excursion. The agent examined the protective posture and hard blue eyes. His brown eyes turned to River's brown eyes and she saw that he was far from afraid; indeed if anything, he looked delighted. "Well we've been busy have we not? A nice, strapping fellow."

He stepped closer, a polite smile on his face; Jayne managed to stretch his taught body farther to the side and bared his teeth. Mal thought they both looked demented.

"He obviously feels protective, doesn't he?" Tius said, and laughed the freaky laugh again.

Mal was impressed with the way River didn't shudder; he wished he could do the same as cold ran up then quickly down his spine.

River just looked at Book's twin, her mentor, and said: "Strong and red: my mantle will not quake before you."

The others looked at her as if she was crazy, which of course she was; they just expected her to act a little crazier. Except for the bizarre content of her little speech she sounded lucid. Simon would have been amazed if he wasn't so scared for his _mei mei _and Kaylee.

Tius didn't seem to be effected though. Instead he looked amused. "We'll see, we'll see. But that is a task I want to take my time with, I think--" he eyed the bulky strength and bullheaded aggressiveness in the man not a foot away from him……yes…it would definitely take some time to break this one. But first--

"I am so disappointed in you, River. You were my star pupil. My prodigy. Now look at you, bound to steel in an old dilapidated piece of shit freighter."

He ignored angry 'hey's from the captain and Kaylee, staying focused on River. It seemed as if she and he were the only people in the room, the only ones that mattered.

"Not the star." River whispered, her eyes flickered past Tius' kneeling form to lack eyes that that watched her with a disturbing intensity.

The agent glanced at the man crouched where he had left him; his smell was strong enough to reach even this far away, his hair was tangled and matted into a oddly-colored mass of brown, which was a far cry from its true color. The rest of the crew glanced at the man, at his tattered jumpsuit and his thin, almost emaciated, limbs. He looked like you could knock him over with a feather. But his eyes belayed the weak impression; they seemed to burn, two large black burning pools.

Simon was very disturbed buy the sight of those eyes, though he couldn't quite figure out why.

Tius snorted. "That doesn't count. And he didn't disobey me, anyway. He's got enough brains to know how utterly foolish that would be. Barely." His eyes swung back to her.

"But you, you did disobey. And for that you will be punished."

At his words Jayne started to struggle with his bonds. Tius, almost as an afterthought, deftly reached out with his sonic disrupting rod and tapped the big man upside the head; he immediately went limp and blood oozed from a small gash where the rod had connected.

River snarled at him even as she flinched.

He had made her Jayne hurt, had made the red mantle fade, but not disappear entirely. Jayne was far too deeply embedded inside her heart and soul for such a simple thing as unconsciousness to sever their bonds.

"I'll save this one for later; because he means so much. But you will suffer a little before that, rest assured child. Rest assured."

He stood and walked by the crew, looking intently at their faces one last time.

He started to pace, first one direction, then the other. He looked as if he was debating something with himself. The other three blue-hands, the aforementioned Mr. Ferger, Leiland, and Johnson, didn't seem affected by it; they looked as if this was not a new behavior.

Tius stopped finally, in front of Kaylee. He smiled at her, the smile of a doting grandfather on a beloved grandchild. Kaylee shrunk back as far as her shackles allowed her to.

He turned to Mr. Leiland, and pointed at Kaylee. "Set her loose."

The blue-hand complied swiftly, and he held Kaylee in front of him with little effort, for he was a large and strong man. There was still no expression or flicker of will in his face. Like River and the other, this man had been broken in to Tius' whims.

Tius smiled at Simon. "What would you give to know the ways I made your sister into what she is now? Would you really like to find out? It starts here, with pain and loss. Deprivation is a well known, training method."

Simon looked at him uncomprehendingly, panic flashing on his usually stoic face. Fear for his sunshiney _bao bei. _Seeing this look Tius nodded to himself, pleased with his choice. "Look how you brother will break, River."

He turned then to the man crouched by the crate.

"Mr. Leiland, take Miss Frye here to the kitchen; dog here will follow like a good boy. Lock them both inside." He walked slowly up to the man, who was watching him now. Tius' hand wielded the other, more terrible rod, threateningly. Like the whipped dog the agent had taken to calling him the man cringed from it.

"You have two orders. One, be done in a hour. Two: make sure that we hear everything."

He looked at the horror dawning in Simon's now open face.

Book's dark twin laughed again the laugh of broken glass.

"I want her torn apart."

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Kaylee fought against her captor wildly; she used every trick years of living with three rough an tumble brothers and onboard the boat with Jayne, Mal, and Zoe. She knew she had scored some good hits, had even felt the man grunt under her jabs and kicks and the one good bite se had gotten in.

But it was no use, he was too strong.

She found herself in the kitchen, her hands bound behind her back now for her efforts against the man in the suit.

She had been thrown inside roughly, and now that she could get her bearings she stood, only to realize she was bound and relatively helpless in the kitchen with the strange, animalistic man.

As soon as the door had closed behind him and locked securely the hunched stance had vanished from him. He stood straight and tall now, where Tius could not see him. Kaylee noticed that he was as tall as Jayne, if very thin.

"You don't have to do this;" she said, trying vainly to keep the quaver from her voice. She could feel the tears run down her face in slow, wet streaks.

The man ignored her and turned to look around at the kitchen. What he thought of it she didn't know for his face was as still and blank as if he were a corpse. Under all the dirt caked on him, he looked very pale indeed. Finally done with his perusal his eyes came back to rest on hers.

His pupils were too big to be human, she thought dumbly as his hand snaked out quick as lightning to pick up a knife out of the sink. It was a big knife, dirty because after all the shooting and getting away everyone had felt it was okay for one or two chores be out off until everyone was up and fully awake.

Well Kaylee was fully awake now and backpedaling as fast as she possible could, her eyes riveted on the knife.

"Yes, I have to do this." he said suddenly shocking her into yelping. His voice was hoarse with so many years of disuse, for what good was speaking to someone like Tius or one of his cronies?

"Oh, no, you really don't!" Kaylee squeaked.

He looked at her quizzically as he approach, backing her into the table until she could go no farther. He had longer arms and could catch her easily if she tried to bolt in any direction.

"Did you see the rod he held in his right hand?" he asked. "It was made to trigger a neural behavior-modifying chip that was implanted in my head when I was a boy."

Kaylee looked at him uncomprehendingly. So he decided to try again. "If I don't do what I'm told, he will use the rod and fry my brain. It would be like boiling fat on an open flame; all oily. It hurts so much, I will be incapacitated for days."

He shrugged, "I cannot remove it and I cannot kill myself because the chip prevents me taking such actions. I learned long ago that it is no use to fight against his will. If I do, I will only buy myself great agony."

He stepped closer, and Kaylee could see the long sharp line of his incisors under the thin flesh of his lips. Her heart quaked for this poor abused soul, and for what he was intent on doing.

Now there was hardly any space between them, he had her pressed up against the hard wood of the table. She and Simon had been in almost the exact same position not too long ago; the difference was this was not Simon, and she was far from experiencing pleasure.

"So will you do me a great favor, Miss Frye?" he asked, slowly raising the knife to the level of her right eye. "Scream for me, so they can hear it."


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: NO NOT MINE! Wahahahahahahahaha.**

**Jaynesdingleberries Presents: Shade Run Chapter 17.**

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The screams seemed to go on forever, although only an hour had passed. They were terrible screams, wet and bubbly and shrieking. Every one of the crew felt their hearts breaking as the hour started to fade, and the screams along with them.

Mal's Sunshine had been taken from him; she had been one of his little girls, and he had failed her. He felt a father's pain at her agony; it ripped him and bit him with shining jaws far crueler than those that had consumed him at Serenity Valley.

Inara cried, every tear wrenched from her. Her Companion's mask had been stripped away with ever scream from Kaylee. That girl, her friend, such an innocent life to be ended this way, it was worse than anything she had ever imagined, even being at the mercy of Reavers.

What cut more deeply was this was at the hands and orders of men, not some Pax changed animal; her tears burned their way down her cheeks, they left her barren inside, a salted-field where once the Compassion of the Companions had filled her. Her faith in human kindness shattered.

Zoe wept. For the first time since Wash died quiet tears fell down her strong face. She wept for her little _mei mei _who was screaming for helpshe wept for her baby, Wash's baby, that would surely die at the hands of this demon, Tius, and the man with the black eyes. She wept because she was helpless and could not save her little one, the only part of Wash she had left.

Jayne raged, but quietly, his hands straining behind his back for the picklock that he always kept tucked in his belt. His eyes still burned from the knock-out gas, his knees felt like someone was shoving nails up them, his temples aches with the force of his clenched jaw, and his muscles were beginning to tremble at the effort of shielding River but he would not relent.

Simon wore no expression, but it could be felt just by being near him. Never before had this doctor, this healer man, been ready to kill in cold blood. Now he was ready, more than ready. River could feel the shards of his fragile glass heart shatter from the first of Kaylee's screams; she could feel them as if they were her own shards, deep inside, puncturing her organs and making it impossible to breath or think for the agony was too great.

His sapphire blue colors, the colors she had seen within him since she was a child had changed. Once they had been all deep and tranquil, moving like the breakers of the wide ocean and sure as the noble heart; now she felt the color change; threads of black, that hated color of pain and death and killing, shot through him and tied him in despair.

Simon's heart had gone with Kaylee, and with her pain his soul broke.

Like River had been broken so to was Simon, shattered into a million pieces, each one a private hell of torment, sorrow, and grief.

And above it all the screams echoed, and with them, Tius's laughter sounded like a clarion of breaking glass. So content was he that he never noticed River shaking her lowered head, muttering.

"Not real, not real, not real….."

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The man returned covered in blood. It looked as if he had bathed in crimson, he dripped as he walked, his feet squishing on the floor. His dark eyes glinted under the matted red mess of his hair.

He held a piece of what looked to be intestine in his left hand. He threw it down on a crate and it made a small slurping sound.

Tius frowned at him, "You were nearly late."

The man bowed his head contritely, smelling the copper and salt on his jumper. He smelled the hate and horror of the crew; he smelled the unease of Mr. Ferger, Leiland, and Johnson. He smelled the content of Tius.

He smelled River.

Black eyes looked up into brown eyes, River watched him still muttering under her breath, then he turned to look into Simon's eyes. But he did not see Simon staring back, only a fellow killer, ready to pounce and tear him apart. The man didn't feel fear though, if he was torn apart then he probably deserved to be.

But it was with the meeting of eyes that Simon realized why the man's eyes weren't right. The irises were to big to be human. The only time he had seen eyes like that he had been at a zoo, his sister nestled under the crook of his arm, looking into the eyes of wild animals.

Into the eyes of the wolves.

Simon bared his teeth at this creature that had destroyed his Sunshine, his Kaylee, and he screamed in killing anger, fighting his bonds, fighting to get free and kill this foul creature. But the bonds held, and no human could break them.

Tius smiled at him and walked forward until he was in front of Simon, he bent until he looked the younger man in the eyes. "Do you understand now, why you sister is broken? I left her no choice but to become a killer. It was easy to do."

Then Tius straightened up, slowly, because he _was _an old man, though he didn't like to admit it. He smiled as he examined the hateful faces of _Serenity's _crew. Then he settled his gaze on Inara. "It will not do to stop the show when it has barely begun."

He motioned to the blue-handed man called Johnson and pointed at the weeping Companion; "Stand her up to the post and re-tie her. This time I want them to see it."

The complied, despite Inara's struggles, and Mal fought like a madman at his shackles until he was bleeding freely at the wrists, his strength waning. He found Inara's gaze and he could feel his heart begin to break again at the look in her eyes; the fear and the love as they looked into his.

Tius pulled his lips back from his old, ivory white teeth. "Start at the face, little dog. For what use is a Companion without her beauty?"

Tius did not bother to turn around and look at the blood-covered man who had brought horror to the deep chambers of _Serenity's _heart as he said this. Which was probably why he didn't see the man grab hold of Leiland's throat, and without an iota of emotion in his face or a even show of effort, ripped it out.


	18. Chapter 18

**Sorry for the wait. Mild case writer's block+finals+graduation+21****st**** birthday dementia. LOL.**

**Disclaimer: I Own Not!**

**BTW: just a little back-story.**

_Twenty-two years ago:_

Siama watched the demoness with wary but respectful eyes. Iolcshan was her aunt by marriage, and though she was quite lax with people she thought of as "family", it still didn't do to upset her. Or to come under her scrutiny when she was already upset.

Like now.

The usually beautiful hands were pallid dead things, skeleton-like and frail looking, but they gripped the high armrests of Iolcshan's towering cherry-wood chair. It was more like a throne, actually, that chair, situated at the heart of the demoness' home and in the center point of attention of her court-room.

The wood of that throne-chair was very special; imported at a high cost, for no trees of malleable structure could be found in Tuluvea, the World Under the World; all the trees that grew here, where there was no sunlight, nor starlight, save for the light created by the light-mages, was twisted and flawed, or of a hardness impossible to craft with.

The cherry-wood was expensive and hard and when polished it glowed a deep and lustrous red that appealed to the demoness' sense of flair. But being considerate of the stresses put on any piece of furniture in her house, especially in a room where she would be dealing with her power vampire in-laws and her clumsy and loutish yeomen, she had treated the throne with a special ointment that rendered it as hard as iron.

Now her fingers bit deeply into the surface and gouged trails down the arms; chunks of red wood groaned and creaked under the pressure of her hands. This was a bad sign.

A really bad sign.

Iolcshan's bone-structure could be seen under the thinning flesh of her face and her eyes had begun to cast a faint pus-colored glow. Siama kept herself utterly still, all her vampiric senses held ready to fling herself away from the room she had just been summoned to. But she had a sinking feeling that if she ran she would be pursued just for the release of tension.

And the tension in the room was tangible. It brushed up against the body like silk-covered wire and was as heavy as bricks of granite. Bricks as big as mountains.

Siama was acting as the de Caerulaeus family representative for her uncle, Lord Kyetil, the Scion of the Familia de Caerulaeus, which Iolcshan had married into. Her other uncle, Andresha, was notably absent from the room; not really a surprise there, though. The youngest brother of Kyetil was notorious for being a weak-willed hen-pecked wimp that was cowardly enough to not face his own wife in when she was in a tizzy.

Really was too bad for him tat he married a demon queen.

But Siama was there, and she really wanted to be elsewhere. Iolcshan's rages were rare, violent, and often detrimental to the health of those that witnessed them.

Siama also didn't enjoy the fact that Iolcshan's two monsters she liked to call her sons were standing on either side of her.

Aolc and Rourke were howlings, dark and fearsomely fell creatures that Iolcshan specialized in fashioning from werewolf children. Great mages and witches and scions of old houses purchased from her all that she would deem sellable, for the howlings made wonderfully loyal and apt servants, bodyguards, silent bed companions, indeed whatever the owner wanted them to be.

Aolc and Rourke were the best though. They were the pinnacle of effort and twisted art of Iolcshan's now gnarled hands. Born of vampire and werewolf, they had been exquisitely hard to break and reform into what they were now; hard glorious monsters, beautiful to look upon, but ruled utterly by the demoness' will.

And Iolcshan had a very cruel will.

One that had been challenged.

By a measly human.

"A human! A _human!! _A human dare to summon me! Like I was some weakling demon, some puny Le'murr!" her hands finally took off two huge chunks of wood from the chair with a snapping groan that seemed far too final. Siama barely kept herself from flinching.

It was news, big news. News that ran rampant throughout the house and reached Siama's ears just before she had entered the central courtroom, noticeably void of a large portion of personnel.

A human had dared to summon a demon, and by whatever odd twist of luck he had succeeded. And that demon happened to be Iolcshan, and that was really too bad for the human. None of the mortal race had enough power to summon _and _bind a demon as powerful as her to their will; but what was puzzling Siama was why the obviously furious demoness hadn't killed this upstart from another dimension.

"SIAMA!" Iolcshan roared suddenly, and the vampiress felt as if all her being was condensed into one small pinprick of light, and it was focused on her aunt's face.

"You have a question wriggling there, there in your little undead brain! Speak it!" The voice of her aunt was like that of many beasts combined, a lion's roar, a hyena's cackling laughter, the baying of a hell-hound.

She spoke then, hoping that her words came out well and pleasingly for she dare not hesitate to speak; a fraction of a second of hesitation would cost her life; Iolcshan was _that _angry.

"I wondered what would be a suitable punishment for such arrogance. Surely something…inventive, and impressionable. An example."

At her words Iolcshan relaxed into her throne, her fingers relaxing their rigid curled grips and smiled. Her appearance was back to normal now, her control and composure returned. She was beautiful, voluptuous , and desirable. Dark-haired beauty with eyes of ice crystal; eyes harder than diamonds and burned with an inner fire of rage barely kept in check.

Iolcshan looked at the furthest end of the huge room, the gables where her gaze fell began to smoke. "I have already set a punishment. He _demanded_ that I bring him a weapon, as if I were a little conjuring Maaltu. Ha! A weapon to 'make peace in the Alliance'."

Her voice was normal again: like a talon, swathed in velvet. Beautiful, dangerous, but so soft and a luxury that caressed a person into carelessness.

Footsteps approached the chamber and when the one of the side doors opened to admit one of the demoness' servants and a little werewolf child, Iolcshan relaxed and her smile grew wider, more voracious. Siama studied the pair that had captured her aunt's attention.

A simple hunch-backed Le'mur imp with wilted wings and a two-to-three year old boy with large black eyes and a shock of white hair.

It was the first tow-headed werewolf that Siama had ever seen. It was obviously one of Iolcshan's purchases, something to make into a new howling; but there was something off about it.

It was half human.

Not that that was in anyway unusual. Human and werewolves bred all the time and half-breeds were everywhere.

But still…

Iolcshan's voice broke Siama out of her distraction.

"It is completely _useless_ to me, damaged pedigree." At Siama's confused look, for her aunt loved to break all werewolves, even half-breeds, Iolcshan explained. "My buyer in the slave blocks acquired him for me; unfortunately he didn't think to wonder why the boy had white hair. A dominant feature of the Gisirrim humans, that hair. They are a blessed race of many powerful gods; and they're renowned for their immovable strength of will. Mix that with the fortitude, defiance, and divine nobility of the werewolves and what I have is this-"

She indicated the boy;

"-unbreakable creature that is thrice-blessed. I cannot form it, mold it, twist it, or do anything to it that will make it malleable without utterly destroying everything useful about it. Utterly useless to me. I had to discipline my buyer and destroy all the others he bought for me; no knowing what taints he let in my stock."

"I hoped he was punished well for his failure." Siama commented with polite concern; she was a diplomat after all, this was what she was known for.

Iolcshan nodded, pleased by the resumption of social amenities by her niece. Being polite and socially pleasant made it much easier to pretend as if she hadn't almost lost control just moments before. It does not do o lose one's temper, especially if you are a respectable demoness who sold howlings to vampire lords for a living.

"Oh, I set him in an impenetrable sarcophagus suspended face down over one of my more notorious torture pits; he is a vampire so he can live forever with the view of his mate and offspring being tortured and raped. It is so _hard _ to find good help these days." Iolcshan shrugged; it was of little importance.

"Indeed it is," Siama agreed, not really caring when she recalled that the simpering Octavien, Iolcshan's buyer, had twin girls barely six years old. It really was no affair of hers what Iolcshan did with her servants; indeed the last fool who had questioned her aunt's disciplining skills was found hanging outside his mansion, encased in molten gold.

Iolcshan's attention strayed back to the boy, some small movement of terror brining her attention down full force on the poor innocent's head; then she huffed, annoyed. "If _I _cannot break it, then no human could. Imagine them trying! I will send it to these humans in this pitiful "Alliance" dimension, and they'll see how much worth _peace_ is!"

Suddenly the demoness' attention came back to Siama with an almost audible snap.

"Which brings me to why I had you summoned here; I need a representative that I can _trust _to accompany my little gift and instruct them on how to handle it and how to extract the excretions of its pituitary when it reaches the transformation into adulthood."

Siama frowned. "Excretions?"

"A hormone produced by werewolves that I believe alchemists refer to as the Tranquility of the Moon. I trust that you remember your tutoring on alchemy; I certainly spent enough on them."

Tranquility of the Moon was a black-market drug much like a sedative; designed by nature to cage the fury of the wolf-beasts. It kicked in on the day that a werewolf child went through a difficult transformation into adulthood in under twelve hours. The beast-part of their nature would come awake and only the Tranquility, sometimes called the Peace or the Pax, would hold it back.

"You want to give the Alliance a way to make a sedative?"

"They'll have to tweak it here and there, I'm _not _going to do everything for them! Eventually they'll get a behavioral modifying drug that can render a permanent 'peacefulness'. HA!"

She thumped her arm hard against her chair in dark mirth. Another chunk of cherry wood flew off and hit the black marble floor with a dull thud.

"But if the Tranquility is bled off from the boy and administered to humans wouldn't that-"

"Release their bestial natures? Oh, yes. Indeed. Then we'll see what the _demands_ of this so-called demon conjurer will bring him! You see, dear niece, it is simply too easy to kill or torture humans. One cannot break a human so utterly as to destroy their dreams and I _will_ break the dream of this Caprius Anderstelle, who is desperate enough to conjure a demon to bring peace to his universe."

Iolcshan smiled, vicious fangs white behind her now ruby lips, "Peace is his dream. And little Shade over there will be his punishment. Nothing will break that boy, certainly no human."


	19. Chapter 19

**I Do Not Own: nwO toN oD I**

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_Four Years Ago: _

He smelled her before he saw her the first time.

She smelled soft, like lavender. She smelled gentle, like the touch of a newborn's hand against its mother's face; a first contact, brief but never forgotten.

Then he saw her. She was a young thing, perhaps fourteen years as a human told time. Her hair was black, as black as he imagined his eyes were; he had been cursed for having "black demon's eyes" many times in the past by fallen opponents, but in all his years at the Academy he had never warranted a mirror. Once he had caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror-bright blade of a sword as he took down yet another student in the training program.

He had caught but a instant of blackness, deep and flat like those of a shark. Later he doubted what he had seen; indeed he hoped that they were not so flat, so lifeless. He hoped they were like his old friend Derrial's eyes had been, before he left all quiet-like, with nothing left behind but a hand-clasp.

He hoped his eyes could be like _her _eyes. They were brown and soft, large and jewel-toned. In meeting those eyes he paused in his current task, earning a harsh twist of a sonic disrupting rod in his side. It was a quick pain, hard and searing; but nothing like the pain of the _other rod _, it was hard and searing too, but it was unending, that pain, slicing and agonizing. But this was not the _other rod, _so he ignored it; still he continued demonstrating to the new students the complex moves of his sword dance.

Her eyes were free of pain and sparkled with a quality he had never seen before. Wondering briefly what it was he froze when Tius walked softly into the room. All aberrant sounds, even the gentle breathing of the watching students, fell away.

"I have the pleasure to introduce a great addition to our little family. Everyone this is River Tam," his large black hand fell hard onto her slight shoulder and nearly buckled her knees, but she held up. Her eyes slightly unsure as she looked up at the man who was to become her teacher.

Tius continued with a smile, the dead one that never reached his pale brown eyes, "She is a creature of extraordinary grace and I am sure she's willing to demonstrate for us her dancing techniques; they should be learned."

Tius motion for River to dance, then and there. She wasn't really prepared for it; would have liked one of her dancing dresses, but she had on nice respectable trousers and they would have to do. With care she executed a perfect move, being extremely careful that she didn't add anything else that was of her own fashioning to it. She was pleased to hear a few awed gasps from her new classmates. She looked up and smiled at them, proud; her eyes met the dark eyes of the oldest boy, who was indeed almost an adult, and suddenly he knew what that something else had been.

It had been trust, and innocence.

In that instant he named her, in his own mind; not River Tam, like Tius had said, but something from his own barely remembered tongue. _Lauranelleya. _ My little dancer.

For the first time in his life, Shade smiled back.

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_Two Years ago:_

They had broken her with the needle. He could feel it the instant they put it through her skull and into her brain. The first vicious penetration had shattered her already fragile thoughts, made tenuous from the operation on her brain.

They hadn't broken the dark haired girl with their dark minds and cruel thoughts, not with their emotions of lust twisted excitement, or anger. It had been a simple plunge of a long silver needle into her frontal lobe that shattered her.

Shade managed not to jerk convulsively as he lay next to her that night. He had snuck in, been tricky and quiet, moving like the ghost his mother had named him for. He always could find his way around the Academy when it was dark and the minds of the guardsmen and women were taken up with thoughts like _bed _ and _trim. _ Occasional thoughts of _food_ would enter into the thought stream, but he usually ignored those; it was when they thought of _bed _and _trim _that he knew he could go about as he pleased, that was when their minds were the most distracted, though he didn't understand why.

He never slept, and his mind couldn't quite lock onto the concept of _trim _without flashing to terrifying images of two little girls being thrown into a pit full of deformed, diseased, and hungry demons. So, as his mind shied from that thought he went up through the air vent, confident that his whip-thin body could dodge the camera's exacting eye.

So he had found her, not six rooms away from his, broken. She wasn't even weeping anymore.

He settled his body next to hers, a little jealous that she didn't have captures that watched her every second in her chamber like he did in his. But that emotion fell away when he saw her staring back into his eyes, her own blank and flat.

Something clutched his chest in a grip to strong to be denied. He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth; "Don't worry _mei mei, _I've got you. Got something special for you."

Her brow furrowed. "You're not Simon, _Simon. _Bleeding into blue and the black! He is not! Nonono…no guns that blow chunks of the stomach, no _Sunshine!_"

"_Ssh."_ He whispered to her harshly and clamped his hand over her mouth. " I am not your brother; but you are my _lauranelleya, _you are my_ mei mei. _You cant stop dancing just because of silly needles."

"Can't, arms and mind can't lift the weight; a heavy ton and noting left but bones, no muscles to move with;" River mumbled into his palm, and Shade sighed. Her brilliant mind was tangled like a hundred knotted strings. She was lucky to be half coherent right now.

"I will help you. _I will give you strength."_

"You expect the red from me, trade and trade, he whispers in his mind. Trade the red. Your red into me, and I get muscle, my red into you and quantify existence…yes."

Shade blinked for a minute, making sure he understood just what she had said; but she had agreed, made the bargain. She had said yes.

Blood is important to werewolves, even human halfbreeds like him. It contained memory and will, strength and emotion.

He understood the strength of blood.

He bit into his wrist quickly and viciously, making sure that his wrist was poised close over her face. His wrist healed immediately, but not before a few drops of brilliant red blood dropped from the wound and fell into River's mouth.

Strength filled her, then, the strength of ages under the moon, of minds unconquerable and a will never dominated. She was still broken, but not as completely as before; she could think now somewhat clearly. There was no more cotton in her brain, no twirling in little glass spheres and wondering why the clock was about to strike thirteen.

She was River again. And a little bit of Shade too.

She looked at him, he was waiting. "My red will wait. Old dark man is coming, looking to break things. Little geisha dolls falling and going splat."

Shade looked into her brown eyes, and smiled for the second time in his life. They were soft and brown again, deep and jeweled. These were not flat eyes, like his. "I will return to collect my part of the bargain later."

He quietly slipped out of her room, rushing to head off Tius. Id would not do for the man to find out what his little experiment had been up to recently.

"Much later," River said, then mentally composed the letter she would write Simon. _They're hurting us. Get me out._


	20. Chapter 20

**Now I am so very sorry for the lateness of this update. Had to drive to Utah to go to my sister's wedding. Should be another update soon.**

**Jaynesdingleberries Presents: Chapter 20.**

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_Now:_

It had happened quickly, so quickly that Jayne couldn't believe it.

He kneeled on the floor and worked the picklock with his blunt fingers; he had regained consciousness a half hour after the _hundan _had knocked him out with the ruttin' rod. It was something that Jayne's pa had always encouraged his son to have somewhere on him at all times, that picklock; and it had saved his life numerous times.

Jayne had been working on his wrist cuffs determinedly, because these locks weren't as new as he'd like and they had some rust in the mechanism; he was trying to ignore the sounds coming from the kitchen.

They just weren't right. It weren't right that Kaylee was hurting.

It weren't right that these _hundan's _were on _Serenity _just when he was about to figure everything out about him and River.

It weren't right that River, behind him, was being pushed into her craziness by this Tius bastard; every repetition of "Not real, not real," made him want to flinch. It felt like she was separating herself from reality with those words, taking herself further away from the horror of Kaylee's pain, further away from him.

And something in him just wouldn't not allow that to happen. He needed his chance to…see what would happen. He needed to see what it was about large brown eyes that made him feel so…different.

So he dug the thin metal prods into the lock and held his breath when the lock seemed to give…but the pick slipped and he cut his finger deeply. He bit back a curse, didn't want to attract Book's-look-alike's attention, and started again.

Then the screams stopped suddenly.

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Shade could smell them, their fear and their hate. It tasted like chocolate, a forbidden food he had once been given as a child by Derrial before he'd left for the monastery; the memory of its taste was one of two gifts he still carried from that man.

His left hand was still slick with the piece of intestine he had ripped out from his own belly. The one thing he liked about being of werewolf blood was the ability to heal a wound instantly, except if it was made by silver.

His hair and skin was sticky and matted from the long hour in the kitchen, from Kaylee and the knife. Now his right hand was slick from the blood of Agent Leiland's lifeblood, and the smell of that made him exultant. Hearing the warning yell behind him he moved quickly, like a striking snake, and spun on his heel to deliver a powerful kick to the center of the agent rushing up from behind to stop him.

The force of his bare foot meeting Agent Ferger's onrushing charge broke the man's breastbone and a good portion of his ribs. It continued through his madly beating heart and exited his back with a popping slurp. Shade frowned as he tried to shake Ferger's body off his leg, a suction had formed around his calf and the damn thing didn't want to let go.

For a minute he did an awkward one-legged hop.

Tius heard though, he seemed to turn almost in slow motion to see his assassin use his other foot to push the seeping carcass of his leg; Shade's black eyes came up to meet his and the old man whipped the rod in his right hand up, aiming it at the man's head and activated it.

Shade blinked at him, then let a small smirk crease his thin lips, and executed a small running jump towards Jayne and River. He leapt over Jayne's head, the big man attempting to duck his flying assault, but Shade wasn't trying to hit him. His foot hit the chain and lock binding Jayne to the pole and it shattered under the force.

He turned to River and said chipperly, "Hi, _mei mei."_

_A/N I dont think chipperly is a word, but it should be._


	21. Chapter 21

**Hehe! My quickest update ever! Hope you guys like it.**

**Jaynesdingleberries presents: something that does not belong to me!**

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Tius was shocked. It showed on his face, in the way his mouth hung open and limp, in the way his brown eyes bugged out. As he stared at the rod in his hand pointing at Shade, his finger still depressing the charge button. A faint buzz sound came from the rod, indicating that it was fully functional.

"Y-your chip.." he stuttered, his voice the only sound.

Shade whipped his head around from looking at River, and turned to meet Tius' eye from his position between her and Jayne. For the third time in his life he allowed a smile to turn on his lips and reveal his sharp teeth.

"_Dog_ you have called me, and _killing_ _machine_. My chip inhibited this _dog's_ ability to be a great killer, free of tether; so I had a mechanic remove it."

Agent Johnson, standing in front of Mal and Inara with his back to the hallway door, wasted no time in whipping a pistol from the shoulder holster under his dark blue suit-jacket and fired at Shade's head. All of the agents had come prepared with silver tipped hollow-point bullets, incase something happened, a rod broke or lost.

The flash from the gun muzzle was almost blinding and the rapport of it was deafening but the sound of a heavy frying pan smashing at the back of Johnson's skull made a nice ringing compliment to the gun. The result of the frying pan striking him resulted in three things: first, the arm aiming the pistol jerked up at the last instant, sending the bullet high into the rafters of _Serenity's _hull and ricocheting down into the wooden stack of crates on the floor. Secondly, the man's eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he fell flat on his face unconscious, with a large bloody indentation in the back of his skull.

The third thing was everybody noticing the person holding the frying pan; it was a heavy-breathing Kaylee, eyes wide and half-terrified with the marks of tears and blood splatters on her cheeks. She had been ducked down at the hallway door; se had followed Shade out from the kitchen and waited there in the shadows for her chance, blood dripping from her hands to run down the handle of the heavy frying pan. Her arms looked as if she had bathed them in crimson up to the elbows.

She jumped forward quickly and hit the man again, just to make sure that he wasn't gonna get up. Her stomach was queasy from the violence, from all the blood she had seen in the last hour, none of it hers.

"_Kaylee!" _Simon shouted, unbelieving, his chest crushed around a feeling he could not describe…Alive …his beautiful sunshiny Kaylee was _ALIVE! _

"Gorram hell! Kaylee!" came the cry from Mal, Inara, and Jayne, who was shrugging off his chains like a huge bear emerging from hibernation.

Simon wanted to run forward and hold her to him, to feel if she were truly so, that this was not a desperate dream his mind had conjured up. He wanted, no he needed, _needed _more than anything in his life to know that she was okay. But his arms were bound, and all he could do was look up at her, at once his mouth forming words that weren't nearly what he was feeling.

"You have blood on your nose!"

She looked at him, eyes wide and offered a half-hearted smile. That was her _bao bei. _

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Shade delivered a harsh lick to the lock and shackles that bound River to her post, his werewolf strength causing the metal to warp and shatter under the force and the pole itself to creak and shift, no longer straight. Then knowing that she had a way of getting out of her entanglement he turned his attention back towards Tius; his face blank and the very edges of his black eyes lightening to an eerie yellow gold.

He was on the hunt and the beast in him, the utterly maddened monster of force and anger coming to the fore of his mind and for once he didn't fight it down; he let it rip its way forward and burst into his mind with the slathering hunger and deadly intent of the ultimate predator. He began to advance upon Tius, the sound of Jayne discarding the last of his chains came from behind him, and the sound of River's voice came to his ears, she was saying something to him frantically, but the beast ignored her and continued on its warpath to the man that had caged it, had hurt it for so long.

"_No!" _ Tius cried, his face twisted with terror and he lurched backwards away from Shade, his feet tripping over themselves as he backed into Zoe. He nearly fell, his arms wind-milling and the rods fell next to Zoe's legs with faint thuds; but with years of hard training his muscles snapped his frame erect and he quickly dodged behind Zoe's pole and brought out the only other thing that could do damage to bear.

The silver knife lay ghostly pale on Zoe's bronzed skin, its razor-sharp edge digging gently into the flesh under her jaw and blood welling up in a small bead where it had pierced the skin.

"Come no closer or she and her baby will die!"

But the words he spoke did not register with the beast raging inside Shade now; and he advanced even swifter, not hearing Tius' warning, nor River's, nor even the panic-stricken yell of the yellow-haired ghost crouched next to his wife and son.

Zoe stared him in the eye, her own desperate for her child's life; if it had been Shade who's eye she met, perhaps that would have stopped him. But at that moment even the Moon-Goddess herself had no hold over the abused animal caged for twenty two years in this man's harsh care, and even the gift of Derrial, which lay unused in Shade's hands lay forgotten and dormant as the bloodlust consumed him.

Seeing Shade, his eyes now changed in color to a pure and blinding shade of gold, his white hair still soaking in crimson blood, his lips pulled back to reveal the flash of his long fangs, Tius knew he would die.

So he took a deep breath, smiled, and drew the blade sharply across her neck. The blade, made of silver so that it could wound Shade if necessary, was sharpened to a fine and beautiful edge.

It separated her flesh as if it were made of finest silk, and the air before them was graced with a wide and violent spray of scarlet.


	22. Chapter 22

Pardon for the delay. Big smile, please don't stone me!

Enjoy.

Chapter Twenty-Two of Jaynesdingleberries' _Shade Run, _which the author would like to remind that she owns nothing of.

Time seemed to slow, a cautious translucent molasses where everything paused and where everything was painfully bright and every detail burned into the mind's eye. Shade saw the first brilliant red drop of the woman's arterial spray; his inhuman sight marveled at the simple beauty of that one drop, the shape of it, the weight and mass of it as momentum forced it through space. It seemed like a tiny dancer, full of grace and mysterious intent.

His eyes took in the look on the woman's---Zoe, he remembered her name--face; her eyes were wide and fearful, but it was not a fear for herself although by Tius' actions she was doomed to die. He knew fear very well, had been a friend with that grating white emotion for so long he was certain it was embedded in his skin all over in harsh splinters; but he had never felt a selfless fear, and the smell of it emanating from the woman, of salty sweat and white smoke…it confused him.

The taught stretch of her body revealed a strange lump in her middle, something Shade had never seen in a human, for by the hardness of it, it was not fat or excess flesh. His keepers had set him to kill among skilled warriors and among others, not so hardened, but none of them had this look; perhaps it was something to do with the unidentified oddness he had felt in the woman's aura, a brightness and warmth that burrowed deep inside her.

Shade saw the ghost. The middle-height man with gold hair and electric blue eyes was screaming, his mouth wide but silent, for very few of those who are dead can be heard by the living, and he was enfolding himself around Zoe, his colors dimming, darkening with despair. It was the action of a creature losing it's mate, and for an instant Shade felt an old memory stir from behind the barricade he had erected long ago as a child, a barricade that kept safe and separate the memories from before when warm arms had held him and two voices, one deep and masculine, the other airy and feminine, sang him to sleep.

Roughly Shade thrust the memory from his mind and brought himself back to the now.

Other things were seen, the fear and satisfaction on Tius' face, a large angry beast powering from its prison and charging for the man that had threatened its mate, a father struggling to protect his children, a man with his face bathed in sunshine, a beautiful girl prepared to die for what she loved, and a dancer flowing like water dressed in rose madder. These things he saw, and his senses recorded a thousand other things, but they were small and nuanced and he could not devote so much of his time to them, so he put them away for later consideration; just in time, it seemed, for time was time again, not a viscous fluid of crystal clarity.

The red drop of blood flew, one of many in the hissing spray, and it landed precariously on the corner of his mouth and lingered there for the barest second before it entered.

Finally he heard what it was that River was yelling since Tius had began to flee from him; his senses tingled with her words, his flesh vibrated with tension as he felt the soul of the woman called Zoe flood into his mind as the salty copper of her blood filled his mouth.

"_Blood is memory!"_

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It happened so quickly, the flash of gold that seared through Shade's eyes, that those who watched weren't sure they saw it at all. But just as Jayne leapt up to tackle Tius from the side, Shade's hand snapped out and snatched the silver blade from the red-stained fingers of Book's dark-souled twin. The metal, a steel and silver alloy burned as they cut his fingers and blackened his flesh but he made no sound.

The sound of Jayne's large body impacting with the man was the loudest, but somehow the slight hiss and sizzle of the silver blade as it bit deeply into Shade's wrist made itself be heard over the big man grunts and his fearsome cussing as he subdued Tius.

Shade shivered as his flesh parted under the knife, he hated the feel of silver on him, the smell of it near him; so after he had made a sufficient slice he cast it aside to clang on the cargo bay floor.

Swiftly he pressed his bleeding arm to the wound in Zoe's throat, being careful to cover all the damage done by Tius, and finally he pressed his wrist to Zoe's gasping mouth. She fought him at first, refusing to taste the blood swimming on her lips; but with his other hand he caught her nose and she finally relented when she started to suffocate.

The instant her mouth opened Shade released her nose, knowing she wouldn't fight this, not after the first taste of strength flowing into her, filling her, saving her. And she did not stop until he tugged his arm away from the suction of her mouth with s soft _pop_.

Her throat would always bear the scar of Tius' vengeful knife, but the edges had sealed and the tissue, after receiving the powerful boost of werewolf regenerative blood, had already begun to knit itself back together.

Zoe's dark brown eyes met his, no longer gold now, nor yellow, but a very faded and weary black, and she thanked him without words; like the bond he shared with River, he now could feel the magenta hardness of this woman filtering in on the boundaries of his mind, the solid and stolid thoughts of a practiced warrior battling hard with the exhilaration of still being alive and clenching fear that she had almost lost her child.

Shade glanced down at her belly, as if seeing it for the first time in his life and understanding what it was, and stumbled back, his arm hanging loosely by his side.

Still dazed from the experience of looking at Zoe's life through her own eyes he tried to reach up and brush the hair matted with his own blood back from his face but found he couldn't. Glancing down at his arm he realized that he had cut harder than he had thought when he couldn't move that hand, the tendons severed and useless.

Blood was flowing from him faster than he had anticipated and the last things he consciously knew was the sight of Jayne's large muscular frame heaving an unconscious Tius across the floor, the black man's face now darkly bruised and blood pooling from a broken mouth and nose.

Blackness clouded across his vision, the trauma he had sustained for the last month and the strain of having the silver alloyed chip burning a pathway in his skull fro as long as he could remember caught him in a vice of sudden and acute exhaustion. He as only a half-breed werewolf, and while his human half was blessed and potent, it was not enough to sustain him.

Shade, the dog of Tius and the terrible weapon of the Alliance, a boy of tender years stolen from his kind and sold to a demoness, finally allowed himself to fall.

Straight into the slender and seemingly frail arms of River, who was standing there still wearing the beautiful silk dress the color of rose madder.


	23. Chapter 23

**Sorry its been a while. School and work stuff.**

**So I present Jaynesdingleberries **_**Shade Run: Chapter 23**_

_**Me no ownee.**_

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It started with a breath.

It hurt; a sharp deep pain that encompassed his body like a second skin, a glove of latex that revealed sensation on the outside but prevented the skin from coming into contact with anything but itself, a cool and cold plastic with nothing better to do than to smother pores.

Shade opened his eyes.

He saw the cold and sterile ceiling that, from his mental forays into mother _Serenity's _frame in the past, indicated that he was on his back, in the infirmary; and by the sensation returning to his tired body, he was strapped down to the operating table. He grimaced in distaste; he had had enough of tables and restraints a long time ago.

There was no one else in the room, he found when he glanced around, lifting his still-matted head off the table. The doors of the infirmary were shut and, he didn't doubt, locked. He was caged.

A slight growl escaped from his chest.

He had never liked cages; even as a boy, when the demoness' men had captured him.

For the barest instant he thought about using his hand, he even flexed it in anticipation; then he banished the foolish thought and flexed his arm muscles instead, making hard fists. The restraints, tight on his emaciated wrists, made high-pitched squeaking noises as his tendons began to break through them.

_Stop, please._

The words spoken gently in his battered mind froze him in an instant. _River?_

_Yes. Please don't break them; it would take Simon such a long time to replace them. Besides, It'll make Captain Daddy mad, you breaking parts off his ship._

_Tyus?_

There was a long frigid pause, then: _Jayne has tied him up; but much nicer than _he _had tied us. No bad knees. _

Shards brow furrowed slightly in puzzlement, _Why not? _It certainly didn't make sense to give kindness to an enemy; and certainly not to a man like Tyus Anderstelle, who had already caused them so much pain.

Instead of answering why her man had tied the enemy up all comfy, River chose to give the reason of why they tied him up. They wanted to interrogate him and then decide his fate.

Zoe, it seemed, was opting for the airlock. So was Jayne; rather boisterously.

_They should have killed him first thing. _He thought coolly.

A blossom of red filled his mind; it was her man Jayne…he was standing near her now, wherever they were; but not touching…Shade would have felt that, like a lightning bolt through her skin.

_River?_

There was a hesitation in her mind now, as she was listening to the others, their voices as well as their minds. All that Shade could here was the gentle whisper and hiss of the ship's air system as it let oxygen in and carbon monoxide out. There was the faintest feeling of movement as _Serenity _moved in the Black.

But nothing else.

He asked again, _River?_

_They are also deciding what are they going to do with you. But please, I'll work it out. Stay there. _For some reason that seemed to comfort him; and Shade let himself lower down onto the table again. It really didn't matter what the crew decided to do with him.

Not now.

To a werewolf death was usually a better avenue to take.

He closed his eyes and sought what rest he would be allowed before they came for him…and fell asleep with a tendril of River's thoughts in his mind.

_I will keep my promise._


End file.
